


South Kingdom

by ShinyVapor



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyVapor/pseuds/ShinyVapor
Summary: There is a lot of mystery surrounding the king's new slave. And no one seems more interested in the twitchy blond, than the king's son.





	1. Nothing but a Slave

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own South Park or its' characters, that right belongs to Trey Parker and Matt Stone. I do, however, own this fic. Please, feel free to use its universe in both writing and art. All I ask is for a shout out! I love Creek and wanted to portray them in a different setting, one that I love. I hope you enjoy and stick around for the ride!
> 
> Kitty-

He didn’t have a name, the blond twitchy boy. Nor a shirt on his back or shoes upon his feet. His skin was peach, but drained of life. His eyes big, but sunken. He wore his exhaustion without shame and walked with little to no purpose. Each time he twitched, the chains at his wrists rattled, and the trail of slaves would grumble. The guards enjoyed poking and prodding the new meat and the blond had been their favorite. Tweek is what they called him, so Tweek had been his name.

Tweek looked up briefly, the sun far too hot for his liking. He feared the hot ball would swallow him whole, then remembered that such a death would be ideal. Soon he would be bought and his new masters would hate him. They would certainly torture him for play or kill him out right. He was garbage, after all.

The streets of the South Kingdom were dirty under the boy’s feet. He thought about the germs creeping in between his toes and sneaking under his nails. He grimaced at the thought of tiny creatures living within him. The guards then poked at his sides suddenly. The hilt of their swords were cold against Tweek’s burning skin. He hated being touched, but the cool metal felt soothing. He twitched, this time on purpose, and they poked at him again. He almost smiled, but one of the guards jabbed him hard. They laughed when he nearly doubled over and, for a moment, his twitching stopped. He thought about breaking his chains and hurting them. But his body twitched again and the thought left him.

The group was led into the open market area, where they were brought upon a wooden stage and auctioned off. Tweek looked forward and stared at nothing in particular as his body twitched every few seconds. No one wished to buy a slave that could spill their drink or graze their face while shaving. Tweek didn’t expect to be bought. He expected to spend the rest of his life at auctions. And walking. Oh, how there would be so much walking. His feet stung at the thought and he frowned. Then, there was a call out. The crowd parted with gasps and dropped to their knees. A group of knights surrounded a husky set man with thinning scarlet hair. He looked the slaves over with little interest before setting his eyes upon Tweek. Tweek twitched, but he hardly noticed. The man was fixated on the collar around the blond’s throat. Tweek reached up to grab at his hair nervously, but was stopped by the chains. He winced, still trying however.

“That one.” The king said firmly.

The guards who brought Tweek to the stage looked confused.

“My lord, if I may?” One started to say and didn’t speak again until the man nodded his crowned head, “This one is quite skinny. Manual labor would be ill advised. And the twitching…he would drop everything you had him carry.” He pointed out.

The king was quiet a moment longer. Then, he simply turned away. “That. One.” He demanded as he left. The knights about him glared and the guards all folded quickly.

“Y-yes mi lord.”

Tweek blinked a few times as he was unlocked. His chains disconnected from the line, but remained at his own wrists. He was pushed off stage and fell harshly against the dirt below. Laughter erupted when Tweek cried out. They laughed at his pain, but his outburst had been from shock. _As if it had mattered_ , Tweek thought grimly as he forced himself back onto his feet.

“Hurry along,” A knight called, “What is your name?”

“Tweek.” The blond replied with a twitch.

The knight looked puzzled, but gestured for him to follow.

“Hurry along, Tweek.” He said with no malice in his voice, but authority all the same. Tweek obeyed and hurried after the knightly group, peeking up at the knight who had called to him. He had not been a man, like the other knights, but a boy. An adolescent. Tweek could see sympathetic blue eyes behind his helmet and black rigid hair when he looked harder.

“Sir Stanley.” The king called and the knight looked up.

“Yes, my lord?” He replied almost instantly.

“I need advisement from a scholar. Do you think Broflov is up to the task?”

The knight had to stifle a smile, “I do believe so.” He said, nodding with his words. The king looked pleased, but said nothing.

Tweek felt uneasy. He wondered if the scholar was needed for him and, if so, then why? His mind raced with possibilities. All of which had been over the top and ghastly. As they walked, Tweek’s hands twitched. He knew it had been wrong, but he reached for a coffee bean when they passed an open bag. The woman selling the beans hadn’t noticed and neither did the knights or the king. Tweek shook more, rattling his chains. The knights glanced back at him from time to time, making his task difficult. As the gates were opened, however, the knights had been distracted. Tweek popped the coffee bean into his mouth and savored the taste.

The castle was made of old stone, Tweek noted, with crows nesting within the maws of its many statues. Once inside, Tweek gaped at the intricate arches that seemed to glow with all the natural light. Maidens and servants walked about, their eyes forever forward or down or upon their task. Tweek frowned when he thought about himself doing daily tasks. It had been better than death, though death was a constant threat for someone such as Tweek. He twitched nervously when they began walking through the lavish halls and into a large throne room. The knights left and took to designated positions as Stanley left the room completely. Tweek felt the knot inside his stomach twist and churn. The king barely looked at him as he walked over to his large chair and sat down. He beckoned for Tweek to come closer. His body shook, but he obeyed.

“Bow.” The king demanded.

“Nngh!” Tweek tried to suppress as he did.

“I hear your name is Tweek. What an odd name.” The man went on to say as he waved a servant over. The servant handed her king a grail and poured wine into it. Tweek let the coffee bean in his mouth bounce from cheek to cheek as he tried to calm himself down. He watched the king take a long sip of his wine before opening his mouth to speak again.

“Father.” A monotone voice called, swinging the doors to the throne room open. The force alone caused Tweek to cry out. He spun around and flinched when he saw the boy who had spoken. Young, like Tweek had been: at least fifteen or sixteen summers. It was strange that such a deep voice came from someone so young. The prince raised an eyebrow as he looked at Tweek and Tweek felt uncomfortable.

“I heard you went into town. You bought another slave?” He asked, sounding almost bored. His eyes, however, never left Tweek. Tweek twitched about nervously, chewing on the coffee bean within his mouth, though masking it to look as if he had been chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“This one seems defective.” The young prince said flatly.

Tweek grunted, but said nothing.

The king laughed, “I care little for the slave. Look at his neck.” His father pointed out and the prince stepped closer. Tweek flinched as the prince looked at his collar and twitched more violently the longer his dark blue eyes studied the metal.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking a step back.

Mint lingered in the air around Tweek. He thought it might have been from the prince, but pushed the thought away. Looking at the prince made Tweek’s chest tighten. Aside from his puffy crown, the prince wore a humble blue tunic with gold trimming. He was tall and somewhat muscular. Tweek liked his raven black hair, it seemed to match the tone of his voice. Then, the prince caught his gaze and frowned. Tweek nearly flinched, but twitched instead.

“My lord.” A voice was heard from the door way, “I hear I have been summoned. What may I help you with this day?”

Tweek was grateful to have someone new to look at. It had been another boy. His eyes were green like Tweek’s, but brighter. Freckles decorated the boy’s face as curly red hair fell from his scholar’s cap. The knight known as Stanley stood behind the scholar, his arms folded behind his back.

“Broflov, yes. Come here. Look at this.” The king said, waving him over before pointing to Tweek. Tweek grabbed his forearms and began clawing without realizing it. The prince watched from his peripheral, folding his arms over his chest as he did. The scholar blinked, turning to Tweek. He flashed the slave a warm smile as he stepped closer to him. Tweek wanted to scream, but he simply continued to twitch instead.

“Ah. I see.” Broflov said as he examined the collar.

“Can you take if off?” The king asked and the scholar frowned.

“No, my lord. There seems to be no opening or closing. No latch. It’s almost as if…it had been made around the boy...” He noted, frowning deeper.

“Will you study it further?” The king asked. Though, it had been a demand.

“Of course.” The scholar replied regretfully.

“Sir Stanley.” Was all the king had to say.

“G-gah!” Tweek cried out as the knight removed his sword from its sheath. He took a step back and screamed again as Stanley took a step toward him. He did not look happy about his current task, but was willing to carry it out all the same.

“Lower your head.” Stanley said, “I’ll make it quick.” He assured.

Tweek’s twitching stopped as he grabbed at the collar around his neck. There was a moment, where the air in the room fell cold. Tweek’s eyes had been closed, but he felt a presence move in front of him. His eyes shot open to find the prince in between him and the knight. Sir Stanley looked surprised, lowering his sword right away.

The prince glared, eyes burrowing into the knight before him.

“Craigston! What is the meaning of this?” His father snapped.

 “ **I want him**.”


	2. The unfeeling Prince

**“I want him.”**

Tweek felt a burning on his face as the prince’s words hung in the air. The throne room was filled with shock and confusion. The king, however, remained enraged.

“Have you gone mad?” His father asked, loudly. Craigston rolled his eyes, a notion only Stanley and Broflov had the liberty of seeing.

“I need a new servant.” The prince replied calmly as he turned around to face the king. That is, before flashing Stanley another glare. “Tis why I am here, father.” He added nonchalantly.

Stanley squinted his eyes, nearly glaring back, but bowed his head slightly instead as he put his sword away. His scholar friend pat his back, causing him to smile faintly.

“Choose one then. We have plenty.” The king’s words lacked any compassion for his fellow man. People were less than people when they were slaves. Tweek wasn’t surprised, but it still gnawed at his already upside down stomach.

“I just did.” The prince pressed, growing annoyed.

Tweek watched Craigston closely as the prince moved to stand beside him. He twitched, but the prince didn’t seem bothered by it. Father and son stood glaring at each other for a moment. The silence made Tweek twitch a bit more roughly. He reached up to grab at his hair, which caused his chains to rattle. The sound echoed in the quiet room. “A-ah!” Tweek yelled, startling himself.

The king then laughed, the sound was crude. “This is the servant you want? A paranoid peon?”

Tweek grabbed at his bare chest, wishing he had a shirt on simply so that he may tug upon its fabric. Craigson kept his glare on his father. He then shrugged. The king looked unimpressed.

“He twitches. All the time. Do you not see? He will drop everything. Break everything. Why would you want him as your faithful servant?”

The prince shrugged again, “He will amuse me.”

Broflov cleared his throat, “If I may?” He spoke up, though his voice still seemed small. The king waved at the scholar, ignoring the glare his son still sported. “I can still study the collar.” He assured, adding. “Have him come to me during his free time. If that…if that will suffice.” His words were directed at the king, but his eyes glanced toward Tweek. Tweek almost felt like an actual person whose permission mattered.

The king scoffed, “Why must you make everything so difficult?” He asked Craigston who, again, just shrugged. The older man let out a deep sigh, “…this suffices. Have him bathed and clothed. He begins a moment after and will be studied after supper.”

Broflov smiled, “Yes, my lord.”

The prince turned his back to the king and looked Tweek over, “You can remove the chains, as well.” He said stiffly, eyes moving to Sir Stanley. The knight grunted, but did as he was told. He then bowed to the king before leading the scholar away. Tweek looked down and at his hands. His wrists no longer felt heavy, but they were sore. He reached up to yank at his hair, but the prince shot him a look.

“G-gah!” Tweek tried not to flinch, but the dark blue pools felt like voids ready to swallow him whole.

“This way.” The prince stated, already leaving the throne room.

“After supper.” His father reinstated.

The moment the door shut, Craigston lifted his middle finger up and pointed it at the door. Tweek gasped, then bit his lip to stifle the act. The prince looked at him, his face had been so difficult to read. “I saw an archer do it once.” He said and Tweek couldn’t help but smile. It was a small smile, but it felt nice to feel something new and other than panic for once.

Craigston turned his face away quickly, “Yes well…you can bathe in my chambers.” He started to say and Tweek hurried to follow after him, “Clothes will be provided for you. What color do you like?” He asked as he walked up a long stairwell.

Tweek flinched when his bare feet touched the soft rug that had been laid out just over said stairs. “G-green.” He replied a second later. It wasn’t something Tweek ever thought about, but he supposed it was the right answer.

The prince nodded, “Your tunic shall match your eyes then.”

“J-just like you.” Tweek noted, “I-I mean…n-not that you and I are the same---Oh gods! I just mean---“

“Relax.” Craigson interrupted, not bothering to turn around, “I am not my father.” He said with a tone that yearned to reveal emotion, what emotion it would have been, Tweek did not know. He smiled to himself all the same, glad not to have offended the prince.

Two guards noticed the two approach from down the hallway. They stood stiff until they saw the prince. Both smiled at him and let their stance drop a bit. Unlike Stanley, the two hadn’t worn helmets so Tweek saw them well. One had dark skin, eyes, and hair. The other was a brown haired boy with big brown eyes and peach skin. The prince smirked briefly as he placed his hand to his chest and bowed. The two guards followed suit, but it hadn’t been proper. Tweek caught their faces and noticed that the group had been mocking. Each other? Or perhaps the process itself.

“What a pretty boy.” One of the guards teased, causing the darker one to nudge him.

Craigston just rolled his eyes, “He needs a haircut. I know.”

Tweek tilted his head to the side, twitching as he did. He reached up and touched at his hair, not remembering the last night he had cut it. Subconsciously, Tweek yanked at the top and winced when his roots screamed at him to stop.

Craigson frowned as he grabbed Tweek’s wrist, “Stop that.” He said firmly, but there was a hint of something else.

Tweek flinched when his skin was touched and the prince winced when he felt a static shock. He raised an eyebrow, confused as to how there was any static at all. Tweek hadn’t been wearing much clothing, after all. Their eyes locked and Tweek felt his chest burn. “S-sorry!” He managed to say, causing Craigston to release his hold.

“Jumpy isn’t he?” The guard teased again.

“Shut up, Clyde.” The prince snapped back, with no actual anger in his tone. The guard grinned in response as the other guard simply shook his head.

“Ignore them.” The dark skinned guard said, flashing a friendly smile. “I am Tolkien. This is Clydesdale. You being the prince’s new servant means we’ll be seeing a lot of one another. Clyde and I guard his chambers, mostly.”

Clydesdale nodded, “Sometimes we hunt.” He pointed out.

Tweek bit his lip, wondering if he should reply with his name or if the prince would tell them. He twitched when the prince pushed his back and he stumbled forward a bit, “T-tweek!” He cried, not meaning to. He then grew embarrassed as he bowed his head, “My name is Tweek.”

“Tweek?” Clydesdale questioned, getting another nudge from Tolkien and a glare from the prince. He laughed, “What an odd name.”

Tweek twitched here and there, “A guard called me it once and it stuck.”

“Oh.” Clydesdale seemed remorseful.

“What is your birth name then?” Tolkien asked before the prince could.

Tweek looked between the three; they all appeared the same age, “Birth name?” He repeated as the coffee bean became bitter in his mouth, “…I don’t remember.” He answered honestly, his tone somewhat numb.

“Tweek is different.” Craigston said as he opened the door to his room, “You should just own the name as your own.” He added as he stepped inside.

Tweek blushed, “Different?” He repeated. Normally the word sounded negative, but on the prince’s tongue it had almost sounded like a compliment.

Clydesdale flashed a goofy smile as Tolkien bowed his head ever so slightly. Tweek bowed his head, as well, before following the prince inside. Prince Craigston’s chambers were rather large. Tweek expected him to own more things, but the prince was rather humble. His bed was large with expensive silk, but there was very little gold displayed throughout the room. The most interesting thing, Tweek noticed, was the many maps pinned to the walls. Most, tracked the night’s sky. Tweek found himself unable to pry his eyes away and the prince must have noticed.

“I charted these.” He pointed out.

Tweek moved to look the scrolls over, “A-amazing.” He said with a slight twitch, “I used to draw.” He blurted, “I-I think.” He added hastily.

“You should draw then.” Craigston replied simply.

Tweek shallowed hard when he felt the prince’s eyes on him. He nearly choked when the coffee bean slipped out of his cheek and down his throat.

“Are you choking?” The prince asked, but Tweek put his arm out.

“I-I…I-I-I’m fine!” He coughed until the bean fell into his hand. His eyes widened, “I-I didn’t take it from your castle, I swear!” Tweek flinched when Craigston peeked at his hand.

“A coffee bean?” He questioned, “Do you like them?”

Tweek was relieved that the prince wasn’t angry with him. He was slightly confused, however, as to why the raven haired boy even cared what he had liked. But Tweek nodded his head shyly as to not keep the question unanswered, “U-um…nngh! Yes.” He stammered and, for a second, the prince smiled. Tweek’s stomach fluttered with a strange feeling. He couldn’t understand why, but he wanted to make the prince smile again.

“I’ll have some brought up to my room. You can have those. No more stealing.” The prince’s words seemed to scold, but his stoic voice remained.

Tweek popped the coffee bean back into his mouth when the prince turned away, “Y-yes…sire?” He nearly questioned, “S-sire.” He repeated, less uncertain.

Craigston grimaced, though Tweek couldn’t see. He walked passed his bed and over to his dresser, “Call me Craig in private. Sire can just be for show. I despise all these rules.” He added stiffly.

Tweek’s chest felt tight again. He watched as the prince went through his clothes. He then flushed at the thought of wearing clothes that have been worn by the prince. When Craigston turned back around, Tweek flinched. His eyes shot away and to the side, not wanting the shade of pink on his face to be seen. Though, he was certain he was sun burnt and the prince wouldn’t notice anyway. The thought calmed him, until he thought about all the damage the sun had done to his skin. It was a strange concept, but Tweek was certain that the sun’s rays were harmful. Most just called him mad.

“You said green, correct?”

Tweek chewed on the seed in his mouth as he nodded his head. He then forced himself to look over and at the prince who was indeed holding a green tunic and a new pair of pants. Tweek blushed horribly as Craigston handed him the clothes.

“I have belts if you need one. And shoes. I’ll have some servants get a bath ready.” The prince told him simply.

“I-I can do it!” He shouted, burying his face into the clothes after his outburst. “I-I mean…I should do it. Thank you,” He added meekly, “For the clothes. I don’t—don’t deserve such nice things.”

Craigston frowned, “That’s foolish. Clothes are clothes. Everyone deserves to have something to wear.” He said somewhat annoyed. Tweek looked up at him. The prince noticed his tone and seemed surprised at himself, “It’s fine.” He added, “I don’t wear green. No one will notice the clothes are mine.” He assured before walking over to his chamber doors.

He knocked twice and Clydesdale poked his head in, “I need a bath drawn for Tweek.” He said and the guard smiled brightly.

“Right away SIRE.”

Craigston glared to hide a faint blush, “Don’t eavesdrop.” He warned and Clydesdale laughed again.

“Yes, MY LORD.” The guard shouted on his way out.

The prince then kicked the door and Tweek had to stifle a laugh. Then, the laugh slipped when he saw Craigston raise his middle finger at the old oak.

Craigston paused and turned to Tweek. He didn’t look surprised, but he was. The sound of Tweek laughing made him feel something and the prince rarely felt anything at all. His eyelids lowered when he realized that he wanted to make Tweek laugh again, but didn’t know how to. Tweek covered his mouth, the embarrassment plastered all over his face.    

“Want to see something?” He asked and the question made Tweek’s expression fall away. Tweek nodded his head ‘yes’ weakly, gripping down on the clothes he was still holding. Craigston walked closer to him and took the clothes, “The bath takes some time to get ready and you’re already dirty so…” He trailed off, setting the clothes down on the edge of his bed before walking away. Tweek hurried after the prince, but wasn’t led far.

They stepped out onto a balcony. Tweek hadn’t realized there even was one. He glanced around and smiled at the scent of mint. There had been mint growing and something eating it. Tweek covered his mouth to stop himself from screaming. The prince was quick to wrap an arm around him and cover his mouth as well. Tweek’s breath was surprisingly cold for someone whose body had been so warm. Craigston put his free hand to his own mouth and blocked his lips with his finger. The creature stopped eating briefly. Its’ ear flickered as it turned around.

The cavy was small for its kind, but still large enough to frighten Tweek. Its’ beady black eyes peered into Tweek’s soul and, for a moment, he could have sworn it knew exactly who he was.

“I named him Stripe.” Craigston said, pulling his hand away. Tweek swallowed hard and, this time, swallowed his coffee bean. He wanted to curse at himself, but watched the cavy instead. It sniffed the air around the two boys before going back to his snack. The prince slipped away from Tweek and over to the cavy. The creature barely responded to him, but allowed Craigston to pet him on his head.

“I feed him hay and vegetables. Fruits too. But mint seems to be his favorite.”

The stoic look on the prince’s face was nothing new, but then his eyes lit up when he spoke. A faint smile crept on Craigston’s face as he pet his cavy. Tweek allowed a smile to set upon his own face, until the prince turned to look at him, and the blond twitched his smile away.

“Come here.” He said.

Tweek tried to grab his chest, “D-does he bite?” He asked hesitantly.

“You’re fine.” The prince replied, but didn’t assure.

Tweek chewed on the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer. He was slow in his movements. The prince gave up watching him to continue to pet the cavy. The cavy watched Tweek intently and Tweek was sure his twitching would send the animal running. The cavy didn’t run. It simply watched as Tweek raised a shaking hand. He was sure that it would bite him. So sure, in fact, that he closed his eyes. Craigston wasn’t paying attention, his eyes had been on Stripe. Just then, Stripe jumped back as the prince’s crown fell off his head.

The prince froze, “What…are you doing?”

Tweek smiled at the soft hairs in between his fingers. He opened his eyes feeling a bit better, only to find that he had been petting the prince’s head and not Stripe. Stripe snorted out of his nose and went back to eating mint.

“Oh gods!” Tweek jerked his hand away, “I-I didn’t! I closed my eyes!” He tried to explain, but his nerves got the better of him. “I-I thought you were Stripe!” He went to say and somehow that sounded worse. Like an insult to the prince. Craigston picked up his crown and brushed it off, chuckling a bit. Tweek’s body relaxed slightly at the sound, but he found he missed the raven waves when the prince placed his crown back onto his head.

“You’re so strange.” The prince said, but it wasn’t an insult. Again, the words came off as such but his tone implied a compliment. Tweek bit his lip, trying in vain to figure the prince out.

Craigston grabbed his wrist and Tweek flinched, “G-gah---…” The prince planted a free finger over Tweek’s lips, silencing the boy. His face heated up at the touch, but the prince pulled it away as quickly as he placed it. He tugged Tweek gently over to Stripe and guided his hand onto the cavy’s head. Stripe glanced up at the two boys, still eating. Tweek had one eye closed until he realized the animal hadn’t cared. He then smiled as he pet the fur between its’ forehead. Craigston watched Tweek, his hand still upon the boy’s wrist. He frowned at himself when he realized he had still been holding on to it and released Tweek as two knocks brought him back.

The prince cleared his throat as he stood, “I believe your bath is ready.” He pointed out. Tweek laughed as Stripe began licking his face and chest.

“R-right!” He tried to pry himself away from the cavy, but found himself petting the animal instead.

Craigston only watched.

Then the knocks came again.

The prince cursed under his breath before speaking, “Coming.” He snapped and turned to Tweek, “Come on.” He said, putting his hand out to the blond. Tweek had been petting the sides of Stripe’s face when he spotted the hand. Stripe licked his hand and the prince instantly wiped it on his pants. Tweek laughed lightly and took Craigston’s hand when he offered it again. Yanking him to his feet, the prince released his hand. He walked over to the door and knocked twice as Clydesdale’s head poked in.

“Having fun?” He asked with a smug grin.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “The bath?”

“Yeah, it’s ready. In the--…”

“I said for it to be in here.”

Clydesdale made a face, “Servants bathe in the servant chamber. You know that.” He pointed out.

Again, the prince rolled his eyes. “Yes. But I said here.” His voice fell low and Tweek hadn’t heard what Craigston said next, “I don’t trust father’s men. He wanted to chop Tweek’s head off just to mine the metal around his neck.” He added darkly, “You think he won’t go behind my back to do just that?”

Clydesdale gulped.

“I’ll have the water transferred.” Tolkien chimed in.

“Thanks guys.” The prince said, regretting his words when they smiled at him. He rolled his eyes and shut the door in response. Clydesdale faked pained, shouting about his fingers. Tweek panted lightly, feeling panic for the prince, but Craigston just shot the door his middle finger.

“Servants have their own chambers.” He told Tweek as he walked over to his bed and sat down, “They live just outside the castle.” He explained, “I don’t want you too far from me.” He stated, ignoring the feeling the words brought. Tweek couldn’t ignore the feeling. He held his bare chest, trying not to blush horribly. “My father is a stubborn man. He wants your collar and it’s easier to just take it by force. A few days of you being my servant may change his mind. I’m sure Broflov can give my father the answers he needs. Or find a way to get it off you without harming you.” His voice dipped slightly, almost soft.

Tweek grabbed at his collar on reflex, “N-no!”

“No?” Craigston asked, raising his brow.

“I-I mean…” Tweek’s grip tightened around the metal, “It’s all I have.” He tried to say, not exactly lying, but feeling guilty all the same. “Of…my parents.” He finished, eyes welling with tears. “I-I don’t remember them. I can’t….I can’t see their faces. I can hear their voices though. I-in my head, some-sometimes. I-I know they must have been the ones to sell me but…but I---“

“Tweek.” The prince said as he stood. Tweek looked down, still gripping his collar. His knuckles bled white the tighter he held and he feared he might lose himself. Then Craigston placed a hand on his shoulder and Tweek wondered when the prince even moved. He glanced up and the prince revealed a pained smile, “It’s alright.”

Tweek couldn’t breathe. His breath felt stuck in his wind pipes as he let out an unwanted squeak. The pained smile shifted into something softer. “I’ll do what I can.” He said, removing his hand. Tweek’s body shook as he released his grip on the metal collar

“T-thank you, C-craig.” He practically whispered.

Craigston moved his hand to rub against the back of his neck. He suddenly looked awkward and Tweek couldn’t help but feel it was because of him. “Don’t mention it.” He then said casually, as if there were no consequences to his actions. Tweek knew better. He knew that the prince was breaking far too many rules for him.

Two knocks ripped both boys away from their own thoughts.

“Ah. Must be the water.” Craigston noted, walking over to the door.

Tweek spoke up, “S-shouldn’t I be getting the door?”

“Tomorrow.” The prince told him, opening the door. “Today you bathe and get dressed. Stand behind my chair during supper and pour my drink should I need it. I won’t. A show for father.” He added slyly.

“Your first meeting with Broflov starts after supper. Are you ready?” The prince asked, turning to him. Women walked in and out of the chambers, carrying buckets of warm water. They didn’t seem to mind, but Tweek felt horrible that he was the cause of their constant back and forth.

“I-I…” He wasn’t ready. Not in the least. “I am.” He lied, not wanting the prince to worry. Though, he didn’t expect him to. Craigston didn’t show it on his face, but his gut clenched.

He was worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know?  
> When archers were captured, their middle fingers were removed as a way to make sure they could never use a bow again. Because of this, if they escaped, they would stick their middle fingers into the air.  
> Also, coffee didn't reach Europe until at least the 15th century. 
> 
> Kitty-


	3. Friends in high Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: implied sexual assault. 
> 
> Kitty-

Tweek stared down and into the water. It was warm, but grew cold the longer he had been in it. With a moment alone, the twitchy blond reflected on his day. The walk to South Kingdom was a bit hazy, but he recalled when the king first bought him. He winced when he remembered falling. Then grew hot, remembering the first time he saw the prince. Tweek slid his arms in between his thighs and squeezed down awkwardly. The prince made him feel strangely. It was both a good and a terrible feeling. Tweek felt so safe around Craigston and yet, oh so vulnerable.

There was a knock at the door a moment later, causing Tweek to cry out. He smacked his face with both hands, trying to hide, but had instead hurt his cheeks.

“Tweek?” He heard the prince call.

Tweek chewed on the lose skin at his bottom lip. “I-I’m almost done!” He replied a bit too loudly. There was a low chuckle before Craigston replied with a soft ‘alright’.

Tweek scratched up his forearms nervously. He hadn’t even started to clean himself. The prince was waiting on him and he would have to wait longer if Tweek didn’t hurry up. The thought of having to hurry made Tweek anxious. He never liked time or the concept of it. He hated feeling like he wasn’t in control of anything or that everything around him had a time limit. Shaking his head, Tweek moved to clean his body. The task wasn’t nearly as awful as he had thought. His hair, on the other hand, was an entirely different beast. The oil that clung to his roots refused to leave their new home, making Tweek angry. He thought about how long his hair had been and thought about cutting it. The prince even mentioned him needing a haircut, he recalled.

Tweek needed to get out of his own head. So he sighed out gently and released his hair. He then cupped water into his hands and began singing. On the other side of the door, Craigston had been looking at one of his maps. He fixed a point before pausing. His eyes then glanced toward the door and the singing that had been seeping out of its cracks. The sound was soft, yet powerful. Almost angelic. The prince was mesmerized.

The words were in another language. They sounded old, almost ancient, but similar to Latin. Craigston stared at the door as he listened intently to the sound of Tweek’s singing. It was beautiful and he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer. Once close enough to the door, the prince heard water splashing about. Then Tweek stopped singing and the water seemed to fall with his voice. The prince turned away quickly, feeling flustered. Tweek took another moment to dry off and then to change. He stepped out, fixing a belt around his pants. He was quite thin and everything felt baggy.

Upon seeing the prince, Tweek flashed him a nervous smile. Craigston remained stoic, even as his heart fluttered.

“You look good.” He said without any elaboration.

Tweek nearly flinched, “R-really? Your clothes are pretty big on me.” He noted, lowly. The prince only shrugged, “They’re fine. What were you singing?” He then asked without thinking and Tweek’s sun burn couldn’t save him from the apparent blush that stained his face.

“I-I…you heard?” His twitching increased as panic set. Craigston frowned briefly at the look he was given and that he had been the one to make Tweek react so poorly.

“I enjoyed it.” He confessed, turning away. He then paused and tilted his head to the side, surprised to see Stripe in his room. The cavy was no longer eating, but watching Tweek with intrigue. Craigston chuckled momentary, “Seems Stripe did, as well.” Tweek had been holding onto his tunic absentmindedly, but relaxed when the prince laughed gently. His eyes softened at the sound, only to laugh at mention of Stripe, then nervously as the creature remained staring at him.

“T-that true?” Tweek asked playfully.

Stripe snorted before jumping onto Craigston’s bed, “Stripe!” The prince snapped, but quickly deflated as the cavy laid down on his pillow.

“I-is he not allowed on the bed?” Tweek piped up.

The prince showed the large brown coated rodent his middle finger, “Not sure. This is the first time he’s ever gone on my bed.” Stripe breathed out of his nose before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

“I think he likes you.” Craigston said, turning back to face Tweek.

Tweek gripped back down on his tunic, “O-oh. I, I like him too!” He practically shouted, causing the prince to smirk.

“That’s good. I couldn’t accept you otherwise.” He teased through a monotone voice.

Tweek had to restrain a laugh as the guards knocked twice upon the door. The prince looked slightly annoyed, moving to answer. “Ah, yes.” Tweek overheard. “We’ll be right there.” He added as he closed the door.

“S-supper?” Tweek assumed, garnering a nod.

“Just stand behind me.” Craigston replied and Tweek found the reassurance in his voice. The two then left the comfort of the prince’s chambers, swallowed their independent dread, and headed toward the dining area. Tweek had been new to the castle’s layout and, in turn, trailed behind the prince as he led the way.

Tweek hadn’t realized he was deathly hungry until he stepped foot into the king’s banquet. The smell of fresh meat and berries fermented the air. Mead and wine clashed for both scent and validation. Craigston took to mead as his father took to the wine. Tweek thought about coffee beans and wished they could be a drink, his mouth nearly watered at the thought as his right eye twitched.

During supper, the king and prince rarely spoke. Tweek stood behind Craigston as he said and did very little. The prince ate and drank, but never once looked to Tweek for more. The twitchy blond felt little relief, however, for the silence was maddening. Thankfully, the king called for entertainment.

A boy wobbled into the room a moment later. He was frail with limbs that hardly worked in his favor. He used a cane and must have gotten teased for it; having been so young, but Tweek found little shame upon the boy’s face. He walked, poorly, but with purpose and smiled as he did. Through his condition, the boy remained positive. Tweek envied that.

“Good-good-good evening maidens and, maidens and, and men. My name is James and I’ll be-I’ll be…be…I’ll be your entertainment for this eve-this eve-for this evening.”

The guards didn’t look pleased to see James preforming. Then, he began singing and Tweek soon learned why:

 

_“On a warm summer's-summer’s-summer’s evenin' on a carriage bound-on a carriage-on a carriage bound-bound on a carriage bound for nowhere,_

_I met up with a young king; we were both too tired to sleep._

_So we took turns a starin'-a starin-so we took turns a starin’ over the side at the dark-at the darkness._

_'Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak._

_He said, ‘Son, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces,_

_And knowin' what their cards were, by the way they held their eyes._

_So if you don't mind my sayin'-sayin’-if you don’t mind me sayin’._

_I can see you're out of aces. For a taste of your ale, I'll give you some advice.’_

_So I handed him my tankard and he drank down my-and he drank down my last-and he drank-he drank…and he drank down my last swallow._

_Then he bummed a torch and asked me for a light._

_And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression._

_Said, "If you're gonna beat your guards, boy, ya gotta learn to hit em' right.”_

 

The king laughed openly as the jester mocked his guards and joked about how to handle them. Craigston barely showed expression, but Tweek could spot a faint smile. The guards boiled as they were degraded and poked fun at. A part of Tweek felt bad for them, but a stronger part swirled with amusement. When the show was over, James hobbled out and the guards watched him leave with sharp eyes. The king waved his hand and his servants took any remaining food away. Tweek’s stomach howled at him to grab at the food, but he remained where he stood; only moving to twitch here and there.

“About time for the boy’s session.” The king said, wiping his mouth. “Take him now and come back to me, son. We must discuss a few things.” He ordered as he stood. Tweek noticed the other servants bow when the king stood. He flinched and bowed, as well.

Craigston sighed deeply after his father had left. He stood and turned to Tweek, gesturing for him to follow and he did. The prince glanced back every so often as he headed outside. Tweek hadn’t noticed, becoming lost within his own mind. Broflov seemed nice enough, but Tweek didn’t trust most people; if anyone. His eyes then drifted to the prince, catching a glance. Tweek blushed brightly, staring down. He thought about how he had trusted Craigston and how foolish that had been. He had barely known the prince, after all.

Craigston cut through the castle’s court yard before finding his way to Broflov’s study. Tweek found it difficult to breathe as the prince knocked upon the scholar’s door.

He grabbed at his green tunic and pulled on the fabric, wanting to disappear.

“It’ll be alright.” He heard Craigston say. “I’ll send Clydesdale or Tolkien to fetch you when you’re finished.” He added. Tweek chewed on the inside of his cheek. He wanted to thank the prince, but couldn’t find the strength to do so. He twitched, making low and strange sounds, before releasing a near inaudible ‘okay’.

Stanley opened the door a moment later. He looked quite angry and somewhat flustered. His eyes shot daggers at the prince, but the emotion seemed elsewhere. He then bowed his head slightly before storming away. Tweek flinched out of the knight’s way, slipping behind Craigston. He then peeked inside and saw Broflov holding his mouth. His face had been red and his eyes wide. The prince raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. With a gentle push, he guided Tweek inside, clearing his throat as he did.

Broflov seemed rattled. He flinched and, for a moment, Tweek felt a shared kindred spirit in the scholar. The scholar gathered himself quickly, however, fixing his cap and forcing a smile.

“H-hello sire. Is Tweek ready for our first session?” He asked softly.

“He’s here isn’t he?” The prince replied flatly.

Tweek stared down at the floor, “I-I’m ready.” He piped.

Craigston frowned as he turned to his servant, “I can stay if you wish.”

Broflov opened his mouth to object, but was silenced by the prince’s middle finger. Tweek bit his lower lip. He wanted to ask Craigston to stay, to beg him even. The prince offered and, though the offer was tempting, he grew withdrawn. There had been too much at stake and, should the session go south, Tweek didn’t want Craigston in the middle of his consequences.

“T-thank you, Crai--…s-sire. But the king needs you.” He replied as bravely as he could. He smiled to try and reassure the prince, but it came off too pained.

Craigston noticed and frowned, but nodded his head. “Alright.” He then shot Broflov a glare before speaking toward Tweek again, “Your own chambers will be ready by the time you are finished.” He added as he turned away, “I have you just down the hall from my own.” He said as he left, “Expect one of my guards, Broflov.”

Broflov rolled his eyes, “I hope it’s Tolkien.” He muttered.

Tweek tilted his head to the side, only to jump when Craigston slammed the door behind him.

Broflov smiled a bit, “Touchy isn’t he?” He teased, but Tweek didn’t like anyone speaking poorly of his prince. The prince. His face grew hot as he rubbed his forearms nervously.

“H-he’s a good person.” Tweek squeaked.

Broflov raised an eyebrow before nodding his head, “He treats you well?” He then asked as he walked over to a desk.

Tweek moved from heel to heel, “Q-quite.” He managed to say as his hands moved off his arms and onto his fingers. He picked at his cuticles, wincing as he bled.

“Good. You seem like a decent enough person. SO. Tell me about yourself, Tweek. Tweek? That’s an interesting name.” He stated as he dipped a feather into some ink and began writing, “What are your parents’ names?”

“I-I,” Tweek clenched his fists, “I don’t remember.” He replied honestly. Broflov didn’t press, simply wrote. “How odd. What can you remember?” He asked, eyes on the parchment he had been writing on.

Tweek twitched. His body grew restless as his mind raced, “Walking.” He mumbled, “The sun.” He said as the room slowly dipped in temperature. “My father yelling and my mother crying. I hear them but I…I can’t see them. Cold.” Tweek closed his eyes, “…so cold. And quiet and still.”

Broflov shivered as the air grew colder, “Damn.” He whispered, moving away from his desk to light a few candles. “Sorry. Not the best ventilation in these old rooms.”

“I like the cold.” Tweek blurted, opening his eyes as he did.

“And the collar. Did someone put it on you? Do you know what kind of metal that is?” He asked, turning to face Tweek rather than return to his desk. Tweek gnawed at the loose skin over his bottom lip. He glanced every which way, trying to avoid the scholar’s eyes.

“I k-know the metal is rare.” He practically whispered, “A-and that…it’s used by,” He swallowed hard.

“Casters.” Broflov said with little taboo, “It’s alright. You can talk freely here. This conversation is just between us. I will tell the king only what is needed, no details will be given.” He tried to assure, but Tweek started panicking. His twitching increased and his breathing grew heavy.

“Y-you think the-the collar is en-enchanted.” He said through a cracking voice.

“Is it?” Broflov asked plainly.

Tweek grabbed at his collar, “M-magic is forbidden. Anyone caught practicing magic is put to death. Anyone buying, selling, or trading magic items a-are tortured and put to death. If you harbour a caster, you are just as guilty.” His words poured out fanatically.

“If a magic item was placed on you without your knowledge or against your will or if it is affecting your memory…then, you are a victim here.” Broflov pointed out.

Tweek’s grip only tightened, “P-please don’t take it off. I don’t…I don’t know what will happen.” His eyes watered as the fear in his stomach shot into his lungs. He panted, trying to catch his breath.

Broflov walked over to him and placed both hands on the boy’s shoulders, “Breathe.” He ordered gently, wincing as static shock danced over his palms. Tweek breathed haphazardly at first before calming down. He took slow and deep breaths after a moment and relaxed a moment after that. Broflov released Tweek’s shaking shoulders only after he calmed down.

“Nothing has to happen today.” The scholar stated as he walked back over to his desk, “I will tell the king that the metal is a fake, but I still want you to come see me. Alright? Can you do that?”

“W-why? Why would you do that!? Y-you…you have no reason to help me! No reason to put yourself i-in danger. Do you want it for yourself?” He accused, regretting his words the second his outburst ended. Tweek couldn’t just take the out. He couldn’t just allow someone to be nice to him without his paranoia getting the better of him. Now the scholar was going to tell the king all about his collar and Tweek would be executed. He pictured Craigston watching him be hanged and wondered if his face would be that of pity or pain.

Broflov chuckled. The sound snapped Tweek out of his mind and back into the study. His blurred vision regained form as he looked to the scholar. He was smiling and it was genuine. Soft and warm. There truly had been no ill will as he spoke, “I care little for personal gain. I have helped many of people in worse situations…and I wish to aid you. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. I’m simply extending it.”

Tweek stared in disbelief before averting his eyes completely.

He felt small, “I-I’m sorry…” He whispered, moving to grab at his chest but his tunic got in the way. “I…I would like your aid. T-thank you---“

“Kylen. My friends call me Kylen.” The scholar offered.

“K-kylen.” Tweek repeated.

“Well. I think you should head back now. I’m sure the prince is concerned for you.” He added with a slight smirk.

Tweek grabbed fistfuls of green fabric. “W-when should I come back?” He asked, trying not to appear as flustered as he had been. 

Kylen shrugged, “I will call for you. Or just come to me when you are free. No pressure.” He added sweetly.

“O-oh. Okay.” Tweek looked around the room before glancing toward the door. He wasn’t sure if Clydesdale or Tolkien were coming or if he were to meet them outside. Kylen offered for him to wait in his study, but Tweek didn’t want to linger. Even with serval weights removed from his shoulders, the air was still tense. He decided to, instead, wait for one of the guards in the court yard.

The court yard was beautiful at night and Tweek enjoyed the moment to himself. His temples throbbed from his experience, but the night’s air soothed his aching. His eyes shut as he allowed his body to feel tired. He had still been hungry, but the feeling was somewhere distant. Close by, Tweek heard footsteps. His mind saw Clydesdale or Tolkien but, when he opened his eyes, he found three guards standing in front of him. Three guards, of whom, he hadn’t recognized.

“Evenin’, Twitchy.” One purred.

Tweek clenched the edge of his bench, “E-evening.” He forced himself to respond. The two other guards smirked amongst themselves as the guard who had spoken to Tweek, spoke again.

“You have lovely hair for a boy.” He mused, moving closer to him. “Pretty like a maiden’s.” He added as he went to touch a lock of Tweek’s hair. Tweek flinched away from his hand and the guard frowned. Before Tweek could move away or even speak, the guard grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face against the bench. Tweek cried out, generating laughter from the three men. He winced as the guard moved on top of him.

“I’ll take you from behind and pretend you have breasts.” He whispered as he leaned into Tweek’s back. Tweek’s twitching stopped as he stared blankly at the bench crushing his face. One of his arms had been at his chest and trapped against the bench, as Tweek’s other arm clawed at the grass below. His hand then fell still before reaching up slowly toward his collar.

“What the hell is going on?” A voice snapped.

The guard moved off Tweek and back onto his feet. He turned to face Clydesdale and feigned a smile, “Just fucking with the new meat.” He said as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. His allies snickered as the prince’s guard stepped closer. Clydesdale’s eyes fell on Tweek before turning back to the guard who had been on top of him. He flashed a smile before punching him hard in his gut. When the guard doubled over, Clydesdale grabbed him. He shot the two other guards a look and they froze.

“You shouldn’t touch the prince’s things.” He said lowly, “Understand?”

The guard grit his teeth, “Y-yes. Of course.” He grunted.

Clydesdale released him, “Have a good night.” He mused, watching the three leave. He then frowned as he hurried over to Tweek, “Tweek! Tweek, are you alright?” He asked, helping the blond sit up.

Tweek stared into his lap, “P-please…please don’t tell Craig-g.” He hiccupped, trying desperately to fight back tears.

“I really think I should---“

“Please!” Tweek pleaded, grabbing Clydesdale’s arms.

Clydesdale winced as his grip tightened, “A-alright man. I promise I won’t tell. Just…come to me or Tolkien if it happens again, alright? A promise for a promise?”

Tweek’s grip loosened and, as soon as he realized his hands had been upon the guard, he ripped them away. “O-okay. Yes…I-I promise, s-sir guard. Thank y-you…”

Clydesdale revealed a goofy grin, “I think it’s safe to call me by my name.”

“C-clydesdale?”

He closed one eye, “Just Clyde.” He then smiled, “Reserved for friends.” He added happily. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, frowning again.

Tweek clawed at his inner thighs, looking back down. “I-I will be. T-thank you…Clyde.” He couldn’t bare look at the brown haired guard, but could feel him smiling again.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to the prince. He has a surprise for you. Shit! I wasn’t supposed to say---uh, ignore that.”

Tweek’s heart pounded in his chest, “A-a surprise?” He asked, “For me?” He added weakly.

Clydesdale just grinned, “Come on.”

Tweek couldn’t fathom why the prince would want to surprise him or what it could possibly be. He held his chest, gripping his tunic tightly as he walked; following Clydesdale to his new room. Tolkien stood just outside the prince’s chambers and smiled at them from down the hall. Clydesdale lifted his head as a means to say hello and Tolkien followed suit. It was a brief gesture that Tweek filed away inside his mind to perhaps use later. Then, Clydesdale opened the door to his new room.

“Enjoy.” He mused, ushering Tweek in.

Tweek flinched when the door was closed behind him and spun around.

“Tweek?” He heard the prince’s voice and turned back around. It was then that he noticed all the food and drink. Craigston sat at a small table, “I figured you’d be hungry. When was the last time you ate?” He asked, standing. Tweek bit his lip, afraid to be too close to the prince. He could feel a bruise forming on his forehead. Once close, Craigston frowned.

“Did something happen during your session?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest. “You look…distraught.”

“N-no!” Tweek flinched at his own volume before lowering his voice, “N-no. Kylen is…really nice.” He said, looking down. “A-and Clyde picked me up as you said and brought me here. T-that’s too much food. N-not that I’m not grateful! I just…I don’t eat that much. I-It’s just what I’m used to…” He added meekly.

Craigston stifled a scowl, “That ends now.” He stated firmly before walking toward the door and opening it, “Food.” He called out to his two guards. They were talking in a hushed tone and neither looked pleased. The prince raised an eyebrow at the two who put on smiles.

“That sounds lovely.” Tolkien said as Clydesdale smiled brightly.

“I’m starving!”

“You are not.” Tolkien interjected, walking over with him.

Craigston watched them both closely before turning back to Tweek, “Is this alright?”

Tweek blinked a few times before smiling warmly, “O-of course.”

“Yeah! We’re all friends, after all.” Clydesdale proclaimed, smacking the prince hard on his back. Tweek gasped at the action, but Tolkien just shook his head.

Craigston smirked briefly as he tripped the guard and he fell face first into some porridge. Tolkien sighed, “Play nice you two.” He scolded and Tweek couldn’t help but laugh.

The four broke bread and drink. Tweek didn’t talk much, but enjoyed everyone’s company. The prince seemed more relaxed and slightly open around his guards. Tweek was content just being around him and stealing glances. After they finished, Craigston brought Tweek into his chambers. “T-the food wasn’t the surprise?” He asked, looking around nervously.

“Son of a…Clyde.” The prince grumbled as he walked away from Tweek.

Tweek covered his mouth, “I-I mean!...” He didn’t mean to get Clydesdale in trouble and panicked as he thought about the goofy guard glaring at him.

“It’s fine.” Craigston assured, returning with a large jar of coffee beans.

Tweek gawked, causing the prince to smirk into a smile.

“I know life here won’t be easy.” He started to say as he handed the jar over to him, “But I’ll try and make it as bearable as possible. My father sucks, this castle sucks.” He shrugged, “Maybe I suck.”

“Y-you don’t!” Tweek interrupted, hugging down on his jar.

Craigston smiled briefly, “Well. I’m glad you’re my servant, Tweek.”

Tweek smiled back, “I-I’m happy to be, Craig.”


	4. The knight's Honor

Stanley groaned as he awoke in the knights’ barracks. Another dream he wished he didn’t have. Another day regretting his engagement to Wendelyn. As he sat, the dark haired knight rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As per usual, he was the first knight awake. Stanley had been the youngest knight and yet he felt the most mature. The seasoned warriors spoke fondly of war, but never once showed any grit. Stanley was certain that none of the men had actually seen a true battle before in their lives. He then woke the men up and they grunted their discontent.

“We don’t have to train every day, Stanley.” One dared.

Stanley held the bridge of his nose. He didn’t bother replying, simply changed. He donned simple clothes with chain mail over top and stretched as he readied himself for the day ahead. The other knights continued to mumble and groan, but Stanley ignored them. He felt the weight of his sword in his hand before slashing at the air. Satisfied, he sheathed the blade and moved outdoors for training.

Training always put Stanley in a decent enough mood. The king was going out to market and ordered the boy and a few of the other knights to escort him. Stanley didn’t mind, it was nice to get out of the castle every now and then. For the escort, Stanley changed into his armor and helmet. He preferred wearing his full armor, it made him feel like he had purpose. Like he was part of something and not simply for show. South Kingdom rarely went to war. A few battles here and there, but nothing to write a folk song about.

The walk into town had been calm enough. The peasants were friendly and made way for them as they went by. Stanley hadn’t known why the king wanted to go to market, just that he had. It hadn’t matter though, Stanley took even the smallest of missions seriously.

Soon, the slave post came into view. Stanley frowned as the king purchased a twitchy boy who hardly looked alive. The guards tried to protest, but the king was stubborn. Stanley glared just as the other knights had and the guards silenced themselves. His frown deepened, however, as the boy was pushed into the ground.

Guards had been such petty men.

“Hurry along,” He called, “What is your name?”

“Tweek.” The blond replied with a twitch.                     

Stanley made a face, but gestured for him to follow.

“Hurry along, Tweek.”

Stanley walked with his arms folded behind his back. He remained well aware of his surroundings, but allowed his mind to wander. He thought about his dream and wondered if he should talk to his friend about it. The king then called for him and he snapped out of his reverie quite quickly, “Yes, my lord?” He replied almost instantly.

“I need advisement from a scholar. Do you think Broflov is up to the task?” The king asked him and he had to stifle a smile.

An excuse to see his friend.

“I do believe so.” Stanley said, nodding with his words.

Stanley noticed the new slave’s twitching and odd shifting motions. It was natural to be nervous, but the boy seemed possessed half the time. Then, he tossed a coffee bean in his mouth, as if Stanley hadn’t caught him steal the brown seed a moment earlier. He didn’t say anything, of course. The boy hadn’t stolen from him or the castle, after all. Either way, Stanley would keep a close eye on him from then on.

The other knights led the king and new servant into the throne room. Stanley took that moment to go fetch his scholar friend. Kylen was deep in thought when he knocked upon his door. He knocked only as a curtesy and stepped inside a second later, “Kylen.” He called and the red headed boy fumbled with his feather pen. He pouted briefly, turning around to face his smirking best friend.

“Yeah?” He asked, cleaning ink off his hands, “Everything alright, Stan?” He then asked, slightly concerned.

Stanley smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everything’s fine. The king just needs you.”

“Needs me?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. There’s this new servant. A boy…and a strange collar around his neck.”

Kylen perked up some, “Interesting. Do you think…?” He started to ask, but Stanley just shrugged.

“That’s where you come in.” He then said, already leaving.

As they walked Stanley thought more on his dream and peeked over at his scholar friend, “Do you think my marrying Wendelyn is a mistake?” The question had been lingering around the knight for quite some time, but was sudden to Kylen.

“Are you having doubts?” He asked, regaining his composure.

“I keep having these dreams…” He replied, shaking his head. “Forget it. It isn’t important.” He muttered, looking down to kick a stone that hadn’t been there.

“If it’s bothering you then it’s important, Stan.”

Stanley grimaced. Kylen made it difficult. He had always been so warm and kind. He cared about others more than anyone should and his friends above all else. No one, more so, than Stanley. They had been the closest of friends since childhood and he always knew just what to say.

“I dream myself going to war but…when I return? She isn’t there. No body, found dead. Nor a note left by her leaving. She’s simply gone. And I feel this…wave of relief.”

Kylen listened intently to Stanley’s dream and nodded, but said nothing as they walked. The knight continued, “Then, there is a sound. Loud and horrid. I rush out to find its source.” He begins to say, growing anxious. “There’s fire to the castle. I go inside and ignore my duty…to find you. But you’re trapped.”

“Is the fire coming from my study?” He is surprised to be asked, of all things.

“I’m not sure where the fire is coming from. It didn’t move naturally. Regardless, I go into the flames but you’re…”

There’s a long pause.

“Stan?” Kylen called, touching his arm.

Stanley turned to face his friend, the pain evident on his face.

“It’s just a dream.” He was assured.

“I know I’m not gifted. I know it isn’t the future. It just…I…” The knight struggled to find the words for he still didn’t understand himself. “How that dream makes me feel…” He tried to say, but stopped himself.

Stanley’s demeanor shifted with his words, “Come on. We shouldn’t keep the king waiting.” He said, arms folding behind his back. Kylen frowned, wanting to push the matter further, but agreed.

The throne room had been quite tense with the prince arriving. Stanley stood behind Kylen, dreading each second his friend spoke with the king. The blond slave had still been twitching and the knight couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Then, the king placed his order. Stanley moved from his post, frowning deeply. He didn’t wish to kill the boy, but he couldn’t exactly refuse his duty either. Unsheathing his sword, Stanley vowed to make it quick. Tweek backed away, crying out. Then, Craigston moved in his way. The knight had never seen such a display. The prince hadn’t cared much for anything and normally kept himself out of his father’s business.

Craigston shocked the room, however, when he asked to own the boy.

The prince glared daggers at the knight, who had already lowered his sword. He spoke up and against his father, Stanley was almost impressed. The constant glaring and eye rolling put the knight off, however, and he found himself close to glaring back. With a gentle touch, Kylen pat Stanley’s back; calming him down. It was then that the scholar spoke up and, soon thereafter, the situation was diffused.

Stanley put his sword away before removing Tweek’s chains. He then glanced toward Kylen, who gave him a look. The two bowed briefly as the king left before leaving themselves. Stanley began to bring Kylen back to his study, when he spoke up again.

“Interesting…” The knight heard the scholar say.

“Do you think he’ll be of use to us?” Stanley asked, causing Kylen to shrug.

“I’ll know after our session.” He then replied.

After dropping Kylen off, Stanley resumed his training. His dream had always been on his mind, but was pushed back with each thrust. Night fell by the time Stanley’s body gave out. He moved back to the barracks to rest, but his mind was back on his dream. Grunting, Stanley sharpened and cleaned his sword but found himself leaving the barracks soon after. His feet moved on their own, bringing him back to Kylen’s study. He knocked without thinking, but didn’t move inside.

Kylen opened the door, surprised to see his friend rather than Tweek.

“Stan?” He questioned as the knight walked in.

The knight paced about before turning to his friend, “I can’t marry her, Kyle.” He then said, causing Kylen’s shock to shift into that of concern.

“Everyone gets cold feet---“

“That’s not it.” Stanley retorted, moving over to him. “I don’t think I love her. I mean…I care about her but---“ He started to ramble before silencing himself with the scholar’s eyes. He felt a wave of clarity as he grabbed Kylen’s shoulders.

Kylen froze, “S-stan? What are you…”

“If anything happened to you,” He started to say, his eyelids lowering some. “I don’t know what I’d do.” His voice fell low and Kylen could feel the knight’s breath, hot, upon him.

Kylen watched Stanley’s gaze and mimicked absentmindedly, “I understand.” He replied softly, “I wouldn’t know what to do either, Stan…”

Stanley leaned down and his lips brushed against Kylen’s. He nearly pushed forward, but a knock at the door startled both boys. They flinched away from each other, Stanley cursed as Kylen just stared at nothing in particular.

The knight looked back at his friend, but Kylen couldn’t look at him. Slowly, the scholar’s hand moved to cover his mouth. His face had been bright and red, nearly matching his curly hair. Without uttering another word or thought, Stanley opened the door. He was angry suddenly and hadn’t known why. Perhaps, it had been at himself and his actions. Looking at the prince, it could have been at not being able to complete his task. The knight bowed, but could feel how angry he must have looked and simply stormed away.

Wishing to rid himself of any fear or doubt, Stanley took to town. He entered a popular tavern and found two familiar faces in the back. Ericson was a large fellow who claimed himself to be a mercenary, but Stanley saw him more as an honorless thief. As the brown haired pig bragged about a bounty, a thin blond pointed out all the flaws in his recount. Though, only Ericson and Stanley could actually understand the raggedy boy. He was covered in dirt, wearing an old orange cloak. He was difficult to understand, due to his tongue being cut out of his mouth. The reason had always been a mystery to Stanley and the other boys.

“Are you sure you didn’t just steal the reward from the real mercenary who brought the bounty in?” The knight interjected. Ericson glared briefly before smiling and it had almost been human. Stanley smirked in response.

“Stanley!” The round boy shouted, “Come to grace us with your presence? Are you certain there isn’t a royal dog that needs washing?”

“The only bitch that needs a good washing is your whore mother, Cartesian.” The knight replied smoothly, gathering a round of laughter from the drunks about.

“Ey! Fuck you, Stan!”

“Fuck you harder.” He purred, gesturing for a drink with his hand.

The dirty blond offered his own with a series of distorted noises. Stanley grimaced in response, “Do you not have syphilis, Kenneth? How are you still alive?”

Kenneth laughed; or so it was assumed, and replied in his usual inaudible manner. Stanley smiled as he was handed a new drink, “Perhaps stop fucking whores?” He suggested. Ericson’s mother was mentioned by the blond, causing the knight to laugh.

“Ey!” Ericson snapped at the two.

Stanley chuckled as he took to his drink. He chugged and, once finished, looked both boys over. “I have news.” He then said, smirking some. The two exchanged looks before looking back and at the knight, “…they call him Tweek.” The knight informed, flagging down a wench for another drink before continuing.

Day broke far too early. Stanley groaned, his head pounding from last night and all the alcohol he had consumed. Even as his body begged to sleep in, his mind nagged at him to move. The knight did just that, but he had skipped training. Instead, he went to see Kylen. A part of him wished to avoid the scholar, but he needed to know how the session with Tweek had gone. As he walked into the castle and through its halls, he noticed a few of the king’s guards. They seemed peeved, one more so than the others. Stanley followed their eyes and found the source to be Tweek. At least, he assumed it had been the twitchy blond. He was still blond, of course. But his skin hadn’t appeared as sickly looking and his eyes shined slightly with life. His hair had been cut, Stanley noticed. It was still messy and longer than most, but framed his face well and made him look more like a boy rather than a scruffy maiden.

Tweek still twitched, but the act didn’t stop him from preforming his duties. Stanley didn’t see Prince Craigston with the boy and chose to walk over to him. He stopped short and watched a moment as the guards stepped toward the servant. One pushed Tweek to the ground as the others smirked, “Careful.” The guard called out to Tweek as he went by. Stanley frowned, walking over. Tweek twitched a bit roughly as he fumbled to pick up all the many fabrics he was transporting.

“You alright?” Stanley asked, bending down to help.

Tweek flinched, “G-gah! Yes! Ah! S-sorry…I didn’t see you there. You don’t have to help me I-I got it.” He tried to say, but Stanley had already placed everything back into his basket.

“T-thank you u-uh…Stan…ley? Right?” Tweek’s eyes darted about as he held the basket close to his chest. He then forced himself to look at the knight and gulped.

“Are they bothering you?” The knight asked straight away.

Tweek flinched.

“The guards.” Stanley added, causing Tweek to twitch more.

“N-not all of them!” He shouted before he could stop himself. Tweek didn’t want anyone to know about the guards harassing him, but he also didn’t want anyone to think that all the guards have been too, as his mind went to Clydesdale and Tolkien.

“Just those three?” The knight pressed, folding his arms over his chest. “Does the prince know?” He then asked and Tweek dropped his basket from flinching so violently.

“N-no! No…p-please don’t tell him. I’m-I’m fine!”

Stanley watched Tweek closely before shrugging, “Alright then. I won’t say anything.” He assured, “How was your session with,” He then paused before saying, “Broflov.”

Tweek smiled meekly as he picked his basket back up and relaxed some, “H-he’s nice. He’s going to help me. I don’t…know why. But I’m grateful.”

Stanley only nodded, “Alright. Back to work then. Perhaps I’ll see you later.” He said, walking away.

Tweek smiled brightly, “R-right.” A pit formed in Stanley’s stomach as he walked away. He felt guilt and cursed himself for it.

Stanley walked up to Kylen’s study and was about to knock, when he noticed the red head in the court yard. So he walked over, but stood a few feet away from the bench. Kylen frowned as he rubbed the stone of the bench, “He needs help.” The scholar said before the knight could speak. Neither mentioned the moment they nearly shared in Kylen’s study. Stanley had been somewhat relieved, only to frown.

“I know.” He replied stiffly.

“I don’t think we should get him involved.” Kylen then said, “It’s our issue. Our cause. We can ask? He might…willingly aid us. But I want to help him first.”

Stanley made a face, “The guards are bothering him. Bartles and them.”

Kylen rolled his eyes, “Not surprised.” His eyes softened a moment later, “Can you?” He started to ask, but Stanley waved him off.

“Already decided.” He confirmed, causing the scholar to smile warmly. The knight could hardly look at his smile. He felt flush and glanced away, “I’ll have to speak to the guys. I may have…mentioned Tweek already.” He confessed, feeling Kylen’s disapproval without the need to look.

“When does Wendelyn return from her trip?” Kylen asked, throwing Stanley off.

Stanley blinked a few times, “Quite a few fortnights to go. Why?”

“You know why.” Kylen replied, chuckling some. “She may be able to help.” He added, “I promise she will not get caught.” His words were firm and Stanley believed him wholeheartedly.

“Alright.” The knight replied, sitting on the bench beside his friend. The two sat in peaceful silence before speaking about their daily lives. Stanley always enjoyed talking with Kylen. They didn’t speak long, however, for Kylen had work to get back to.

Stanley left the court yard when Kylen returned to his study. He thought about training, but found himself heading toward Prince Craigston’s chambers. There was a brief moment when he thought about telling the prince, but Tweek’s horrified expression crossed his mind and he quickly decided against it. Instead, he found Clydesdale and Tolkien at their usual post. The two were surprised to see him, but Tolkien smiled all the same.

“Good day, Stanley.” The dark skinned boy greeted as Clydesdale looked him over, wary.

“What do you want?” Clydesdale asked without shame, garnering an ebony elbow against his side. “What?” He snapped and Tolkien just shook his head.

Stanley nodded his head as his greeting. He then answered Clydesdale, however rude it was. “The prince’s servant. Tweek? How is he settling in?” The question now made Tolkien uneasy, though he hid it well and spoke friendly enough.

“Quite well. Only the second day and he’s already handling his duties without complain.”

“Ah. Good.” Stanley said, looking around a bit.

“What’s it to you?” Clydesdale asked, this time Tolkien didn’t reprimand him.

Stanley shrugged, eyes back on them. “If you notice anything. Just let me know. You guys are alright, but most guards can eat a cock.”

Clydesdales laughed openly at Stanley’s words, but Tolkien raised an eyebrow. “You know about Bartles?” He asked, causing his friend to shift in demeanor.

Clydesdale grit his teeth, “That---…” He paused, “Wait. How did you…did something happen to Tweek?” He asked, growing concerned. Too concerned. His tough guard stance fell into that of a frightened child in a matter of seconds.

Tolkien calmed him down with one hand on his back and the other patting his shoulder, “I’m sure Tweek’s fine.” He cooed.

“He is fine, isn’t he?” He then asked, turning to Stanley. It was Tolkien’s turn to be worried, but he tried not to let it show in his voice; for Clydesdale still needed to be soothed.

“Tweek’s fine.” Stanley informed.

Both boys sighed their relief. Then they both frowned in unison, “Craig doesn’t know. Tweek doesn’t want us to say anything.”

“Me either.” Stanley recalled.

“So what do we do?”

Stanley looked both boys over and smirked, “Alliance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the lack of Creek.  
> I promise, chapter five will have plenty.
> 
> Kitty-


	5. Brewing of a Storm

Craigston once despised waking up to his servants. He didn’t want their help bathing, putting on his clothes, or eating. He preferred doing things himself or being left alone with Stripe and his maps. The prince knew from the first day, that Tweek wouldn’t be like his other servants. And, as time went by, Craigston looked forward to seeing the blond day after day. They had time apart, of course; normally during the afternoons, Craigston disliked that time. Mornings had been nice, the prince found nothing but content as they ate breakfast together. At night, he and his guards joined the twitchy blond in his chambers for supper. Craigston starting eating less and less at his father’s suppers, so that he may eat more with Tweek and the guys.

The prince heard two knocks upon his door and fixed his crown, “Let him in.” He told Clydesdale, knowing full well he had been the one to knock. Tweek stepped inside a moment later, chuckling lightly at something Clydesdale had said.

“G-good morning, Craig.” Tweek said, smiling softly.

Craigston wasn’t much for smiling. At least, he hadn’t been before meeting Tweek. He smiled back slightly, still trying to stifle visual emotion. “Good morning, Tweek.” Tweek’s smile brightened as he walked over to the prince.

“I-nngh-have your breakfast.” He said, hardly twitching. Craigston only nodded as he cleared his table, causing Tweek’s cheeks to puff up.

“You look like a bird.” The prince informed, smirking to himself as he did.

Tweek blushed brightly, “I-I’m the servant, remember?” He huffed, setting everything down. A loaf of bread and cheese, as well as, a jag of water. Nothing fancy. Craigston proved to be quite simple for a prince.

“Sit.” He ordered gently and Tweek obeyed.

The two ate pieces of cheese over bread. Craigston cut the bread and cheese as Tweek poured them both water, dropping a few coffee beans into his own cup. It was a habit he started that had become routine. Most things became routine, Tweek noticed. He didn’t mind, of course. Ever since he became Craigston’s servant, life felt less like a chore and more like an experience. Ironic, since most of his time was spent doing chores.

“O-oh. You have training with Sir Stanley to-um-day.” Tweek remembered and Craigston only nodded. “T-that Wendelyn girl…I’m meeting her today.” He said before shoving another piece of bread into his mouth.

“Fuck. That’s this day?” Craigston asked, frowning some.

Tweek twitched nervously, “Y-yeah. She returns today. K-kylen said she’ll meet with me during our session.”

“Are you nervous?” The prince asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. Tweek’s eyes fluttered as he tried to stop himself from twitching. Craigston had gotten used to the blond’s erratic movements over the weeks. He soon realized that they hadn’t been as random as they appeared. He also noticed that Tweek twitched less around him. 

“I-it’s…so much pressure!”

Craigston raised an eyebrow, “What is?”

Tweek hid his face behind the bread and the prince felt strange for finding the act cute, “M-meeting someone new. NNGH. Talking…to them. E-especially about myself.” He stammered.

“All this for some chunk of metal? I thought Broflov said it was a fake. Why do you still need sessions with him if that is the consensus?”

Tweek fiddled nervously before scratching at his forearms. Next, he would move to tug at his hair but Craigston left his chair to stop him. He flinched briefly as the prince grabbed his wrist. It didn’t hurt, it never did, but Tweek still wasn’t used to how close the prince could get to him.

“Is it about your memories? I know you can’t remember much…” He started to say, releasing Tweek slowly to lean against the table. Tweek rubbed his wrist. Not because it hurt, but because he could still feel the prince upon him; a phantom touch that made his cold skin heat up.

“Y-yeah…Kylen thinks that maybe t-the um collar is effecting my memories? B-but he also thinks there could be side effects if I take it off. W-wendelyn’s father is a black smith s-so he thinks she can help. M-maybe?” Tweek glanced away, unable to look at the prince as he lied to him. Well, he hadn’t been lying completely. But enough to make him feel some shame.

Craigston watched Tweek closely before speaking. He didn’t show much expression as he spoke, “I should go with you. When’s your session? I can always train with Stanley another day.”

“N-no!” Tweek shouted, nearly falling out of his chair. The prince raised his eyebrow at the sudden outburst, though he wasn’t surprised.

“I-I mean…nngh! You shouldn’t go back on your commitments. I-I’ll be fine.” He added meekly, “A-and I’ll tell you about it after.” He then said, blushing shyly. “I-if you want.” He whispered.

“Alright.” Craigston replied, pushing himself off the table. He left to feed Stripe on the balcony as Tweek stood to clean up.

“I-I’ll walk him after my session!” He called out. The prince didn’t reply, but he could sense his nod.

Afterward, Clydesdale opened the door when Craigston knocked. Tolkien flashed a smile, causing Tweek to smile back. He rather liked the two guards. Tolkien had been the most mature of the group and cared for everyone more like a mother than an actual friend. Clydesdale had been too friendly at first, but he picked up on cues and eased up for Tweek’s sake. It was rather sweet. Tweek also liked watching Clydesdale with Craigston. The two bickered and play fought like brothers and it was nice to see that side of the prince. The castle had many rules and an arduous caste system. Inside Tweek’s chambers, however, everyone was treated equal and everyone looked forward to being there.

“Training with the Stan man today?” Clydesdale smirked, “Kick his ass.” He added playfully and Craigston smirked briefly.

“I always do.” He replied flatly.

Tolkien shook his head, ignoring the two to speak with Tweek. “I hear you’re meeting Wendelyn today? You must be nervous, but don’t be.” He said softly, “She’s a good person, just like you. You’ll be alright.” He assured and it was hard not to believe him.

“Y-yeah. Thanks. Um…are we still on for tonight?” Tweek asked nervously. Even as time passed, he still grew anxious around the two from time to time.

Clydesdale grinned as Tolkien smiled, “Of course.”

“Yeah! I mean…the prince DOES bring the best food for his little coffee bean. And I want to take advantage as often as I can!” The husky boy mused, crying out when Craigston elbowed him in the back of the head.

Tweek flinched but Tolkien only shook his head, “Be nice.” He told both in a stern voice.

Craigston showed the two his middle finger and walked away, “Come on Tweek.” He grumbled, already half way down the hall.

Clydesdale was still rubbing the back of his head, but he snickered.

Tweek blushed brightly, “C-coming!” He then waved goodbye to both guards before hurrying after the prince.

Tolkien sighed out softly, watching the two leave. He then looked back at Clydesdale, “That really hurt.” He whined.

“Suck it up. It’s your turn today.” Tolkien informed him.

Clydesdale stretched, “Right, right.” And with that he was gone.

Craigston was quiet on their walk to Broflov’s study. Tweek played with the ends of his tunic while they walked. Normally, Tweek didn’t mind the silence. He and the prince spent a lot of time together, but in silence. Without the prince there, silence was maddening. Today, felt different. The prince seemed bothered by something. Clydesdale’s comment came to mind, but it had been even before that. Breakfast, Tweek thought. Perhaps, it was about his meeting today. Though, the twitchy blond couldn’t fathom why.

“Here you are.” He heard the prince say.

“G-gah! Thanks, C-craig.” Tweek whispered his name, having been out in public. He learned to say ‘sire’ around most others. Sometimes he would forget, but was glad his mind subconsciously saved him each time. So far, no one had noticed. Craigston’s shoulders tightened slightly during those times, Tweek observed. He wondered if the prince didn’t like hearing his name said so lowly.

“Come straight to me if anything goes wrong.” Craigston said, still not looking over to Tweek.

Tweek frowned, “I-I will.” He managed to say, moving to pick at his cuticles.

“Leave your fingers alone.” The prince scolded without looking. He then sighed as he walked away, “Have a good session.”

Tweek opened his mouth to stop the prince from leaving, but bit down on his bottom lip instead. His eyes darting around before falling on Kylen’s door. He then swallowed hard and knocked.

Kylen opened his door a moment later and smiled, “Ah, Tweek. Welcome. Come in. Would you like some tea?”

Tweek’s fingers curled and scratched at the palms below, “I-I’m okay.” He replied nervously as he stepped further inside. Kylen shrugged as he moved to pour some tea anyway. Tweek frowned, but didn’t complain. He took to chewing on the inside of his cheek as silence washed over the room. Then, there was a knock. Tweek jumped, but Kylen assured it had only been Wendelyn.

No surprise she had been the same age as he. Wendelyn was tall and beautiful. Her skin was fair and her hair long, she wore her many black strands in a simple braid over her shoulder. The color purple suited her, for her eyes were violet. Tweek couldn’t look away from them, they were almost enchanting.

Wendelyn greeted Kylen with a friendly hug before turning to Tweek, “Is this him?” She asked softly and the scholar nodded.

“I made tea.” He told her, moving to gather the cups. “How was your trip?” He then asked as he returned. Wendelyn took the cup, gratefully.

“You know how druids are.” She replied, slightly annoyed. “I love them! But they can be a bit…”

“Pretentious?” Kylen retorted and she laughed.

“Yes!” She agreed, taking a sip of tea as she sat down. Tweek stood there awkwardly as the two spoke among themselves.

“D-druids?” He questioned. The word sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Wendelyn smiled as Kylen gestured for Tweek to sit, and handed him a cup as he did. Tweek took the tea, but only to have something to hold onto and distract his fingers from each other.

“Druids are people who are one with nature. And they use that bond with nature to produce magic.” Wendelyn explained gently.

Tweek dropped his tea to grab his collar on instinct. When the cup shattered, he screamed. Kylen was quick to pick the pieces up, but Wendelyn finished her own tea and raised her hand for him to stop. The violet of her eyes flashed as she chanted without warning. Tweek froze upon hearing the strange words. A faint purple glow took over the broken cup and slowly pulled it back together. Once the cup was whole, the cracks were sealed with the light.

“Don’t be frightened.” She said and Kylen picked the cup back up. “We’re all friends here.” She added with a warm smile.

Tweek’s grip only tightened on his collar, “I-I don’t have magic.” He said and she saddened briefly.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I-I don’t!” Tweek snapped as the air in the room dipped.

Kylen shivered, “This again.” He pointed out, chuckling lightly.

Tweek’s eyes widened, only to shut tightly. “I don’t!” He yelled as his knuckles whitened, “I swear I don’t! I----“ His eyes then shot opened as a cold breath fell from his mouth, “I-it’s…so much worse than that.” Tweek confessed, shaking violently.

Kylen and Wendelyn exchanged glances before looking back at the blond servant, “How so?” He was asked, but Tweek only shook his head.

“I-I…I don’t remember…” He told them, his grip loosening some. His body continued to shake as tears filled his eyes, “I don’t remember!” He cried, embracing himself as he began to sob. Outside, it began to rain. Wendelyn glanced up, as if she could see the sky.

Kylen frowned deeply, “T-tweek---“

Wendelyn stood and walked over to the distressed boy. She bent down in front of him, but was careful not to touch him; not yet. “It’s alright.” She cooed. “We’re going to help you.” She went on to say, “We can figure it out together. Alright? It’s going to be just fine.”

“H-how can you say that?” Tweek hiccupped, pulling his legs up to hold them instead and buried his face in his knees. “Magic is against the law. C-craig will---the prince will…he will surely hate me!”

Wendelyn raised an eyebrow and glanced to Kylen, “He won’t hate you.” The scholar told Tweek as he moved over to bend down beside Wendelyn, “I do believe that’s improbable.”

Tweek sniffled from in between his thighs, “H-how NNGH do you know that?” He squeaked, gripping down on his legs. “How can you-you be so sure?”

“Because,” Kylen began, “You two are friends.”

Wendelyn smiled, “Friends are always there for each other. No matter what.” She said sweetly, “They love each other and protect each other.”

Kylen nodded as he added, “Whatever happens…the prince will always be your friend.”

“F-friend?” Tweek questioned. The two weren’t friends. Tweek was merely his servant, perhaps his favorite servant but a servant none the less. Then his mind wandered to moments in his chambers. He saw Clydesdale laughing and Tolkien passing Tweek the last sweet roll. Then Craigston. The prince was smiling at him and no one else.

“Yes, friends.” The two assured, patting a knee each.

Tweek winced at the sudden contact, but didn’t reject it. The cold air fell as Tweek thought more about the prince. Slowly, he removed himself from the ball he had made. His body relaxed as he looked the two over. They both smiled and it seemed genuine. Tweek found himself smiling back, though it had been weak. He wiped his eyes and lowered his head, “T-thank you.”

The two then stood and smiled at each other before looking back at Tweek, “We’re going to figure this out.” Kylen said, certain and Wendelyn nodded her agreement.

Tweek peeked up at the girl, “S-so…you’re a caster?” He asked and her smile faded before evolving into a bit of a smirk.

“A pretty good one too.” She bragged.

Kylen rolled his eyes playfully, “You’re alright.” He teased as he went to get more tea.

“Y-you’re amazing!” Tweek blurted, covering his mouth after he had.

Wendelyn chuckled softly, “Why thank you. Tweek? Right?”

Tweek looked down shyly, “Y-yes. Wen…wendelyn?”

“Call me Wendy. Only Stan and Kyle really do, but you can too if you wish”

Tweek smiled, feeling a little bit better. His eyes were sore and his head hurt. He always hated crying and tried his best not to. Though, he felt slightly better after crying. It felt as if he had more pent up than he realized and releasing some of it without consequence was nice.

“It took me years to learn even the simplest of spells.” The raven haired girl confessed, “Every living creature has magic within them. Only some are gifted enough to learn and fewer still gifted enough to master. For some it takes years. Others, just a few moments.” Wendelyn looked around the room before looking back at Tweek, “I can sense great power within you. I’d bet the farm you could cast magic without the use of an item or incantation.”

“I-is that even possible?” Kylen asked, awestruck at the thought.

Wendelyn shrugged, “I’m not sure what he is. But he isn’t a caster. That collar is holding something in. Something great.”

“W-what? I’m human.” Tweek retorted, though with little certainty. “I…I had human parents.” He added, a bit more certain.

Wendelyn chuckled, “Oh sweet boy. That means very little in this world.”

Kylen nodded, “She’s right. Plenty of magical beings are born from human parents. Mostly through reincarnation or ritual or a curse.” He pointed out.

Tweek tasted metal and it was then that he realized he was biting too roughly upon his own lip. He wiped his mouth and stared down as he took the information in.

“Do not worry.” Wendelyn spoke up, “As I said before…we’ll figure it out. Once we know, we can go from there.” She paused to give Kylen a firm look before looking back to Tweek with softer eyes, “And you can decide what to do from there.”

Kylen cleared his throat before speaking, “I think that’s enough for today. We can have another session with Wendy when you’re feeling up to it.”

“O-okay.” Tweek managed to say, his mind still racing.

Wendelyn revealed a kind smile, “It was nice meeting you, Tweek. Please. Come to me or Kyle and even Stan if you need anything. Or just to talk. We’re here for you.”

Tweek clenched the fabric of his pants over his knees, “T-thank you.” He forced himself to say, unable to look up at her as she left. Kylen waited a moment before speaking again, “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

There was a long pause, but Kylen remained patient.

“I-I can’t believe there are casters here. And the king’s own knight is courting her? T-that’s so…dangerous. How can anyone---nngh.” He twitched and shook his head, “Am I a coward?”

Kylen was caught off guard by Tweek’s sudden question, “A coward?” He repeated. “In what sense?” He then asked, but Tweek stood up.

“I-I should go.”

“Tweek---” Kylen called, but the servant was already out the door.

“I’m glad I met Wendy! S-see you another day!” He shouted back as he left. Tweek rubbed the sides of his head roughly and tried to figure out why he had gotten so upset. He thought about Wendy being a caster. He assumed Stanley had known, especially since Kylen had. Then his mind found its way to Craigston.

 _Do I want to tell him?_ Tweek wondered.

“Tweek!” Clydesdale called from the court yard. Tweek pried himself out of his own mind to look over and at the guard. He forced a smile and walked over, trying his best not to twitch nervously. He noticed the guard shake some water out of his hair with his hand. Tweek glanced up at the sky, the rain must have stopped before he came outside.

“Hey Clyde. Y-you know…you and Tolkien don’t have to pick me up every time. T-those guards haven’t bothered me in a long time.” He added, meekly.

Clydesdale blew a raspberry, “Think nothing of it. I like walking with you! And I need to get out more, anyway.” He added, grinning some.

Tweek fiddled with his fingertips as they walked, “T-thanks.”

“How was your session? If you ever need me to punch that Broflov in the face, just ask.” The guard teased, but Tweek took it far too serious.

“P-please don’t! I really like Kylen. He’s nice.” The blond assured, growing visually nervous.

Clydesdale laughed, “I’m joking.” He assured, “Partly.” He added with a wink.

Tweek pouted slightly, but nodded his head. “The session was…interesting.” He informed, rubbing his forearm. “Wendy is nice too. Not sure how South Kingdom is so lucky t-to have so many decent people…”

“Aww. You like us.” He teased and Tweek laughed.

“Maybe a little.” He attempted to tease back, causing Clydesdale to smile brightly.   

Tolkien greeted the two when they returned to the prince’s chambers to pick up Stripe. When Tweek first started walking Stripe, a rope was used to keep the large rodent from running away. Over time, Tweek realized the animal would never leave. He must have loved his owner, or trusted Tweek enough. Stripe snorted at the guards as he left the room and walked with a bounce in his step beside Tweek.

Clydesdale started talking about food as Stripe wandered slightly. Tweek kept his eyes on the creature, but continued to listen to the guard. They walked away from the castle and toward the outskirts, just before the forest. Tweek had always wanted to venture into the forest, but a voice in his head told him all the horrible things that would happen to him if he did. Most had been ridiculous. Tweek knew he was paranoid, but knowing didn’t stop it.

“So yeah! Can you believe that?” Clydesdale said, grunting suddenly.

Tweek’s eyes snapped away from Stripe in the distance. He turned just as the guard hit the ground. Tweek froze when he spotted the blood dripping from the back of Clydesdale’s head.

“C-clyde?” His voice cracked.

Bartles chuckled as he lowered his club, “Looks like there’s no one to save you now.” He purred, “Not even that arrogant Stanley.”

 _Stanley?_ Tweek’s brain questioned for only a spit second. His eyes darted back and forth between Bartles and his club before falling back on Clydesdale. The guard hadn’t been moving. Tweek wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not and his own breathing hitched. His eyes watered as the image of Clydesdale blurred and the blood on his head colored Tweek’s entire view.

“Y-you…!”

Bartles raised an eyebrow, dropping his club to remove his sword. Tweek’s collar began to smoke as the sky above cracked. The guard felt a chill run down his spine once Tweek’s eyes lit up brightly, “You hurt my friend!” He screamed as the light emanating from his eyes leaked across his face.

“Y-you’re…you have magic?!” Bartles questioned, taking a step back.

The collar burned Tweek’s neck, but the pain was ignored as he raised his hand. The sword in Bartles’ hand rattled while he attempted to lift it. Tweek’s hand twitched, but the rest of his body remained unmoving. He smirked as lightening fell from the sky and landed in the palm of his hand. Tweek’s hand dipped briefly, but he was otherwise unfazed.

“W-wait.” Bartles shook so roughly, he had dropped his sword. “Wait please!” He cried, falling to his knees. “I-I’m sorry! Forgive me. I didn’t…I didn’t mean it!” He cried out, burying his face in his hands. He sobbed while trying to pray. Tweek raised an eyebrow, stepping forward. He readied his hand to throw, but paused when he heard his name.

“Twe…” Clydesdale breathed, “Tweek?” He groaned, coming to.

Tweek flinched and the sky cleared almost instantly. Bartles had still been cowering when Tweek hurried back over to Clydesdale. The blond felt the pain in his neck stinging as the light in his eyes died and the spark in his hand absorbed into his flesh.

Clydesdale tried to sit up as his eyes fluttered opened, “What…what happened?” He asked through the pain.

Tweek’s hands shook while he helped Clydesdale sit up right, “C-clyde!” He wanted to cry, “You’re alive! I’m…I’m so glad!”

“W-woah. Tweek. Are you alright?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head. He hissed, feeling the bloody bump. “The fuck?” His eyes then found Bartles. The guard flinched back onto his feet and ran away.

“Bastard!” Clydesdale shouted as he moved to chase after him but fell back down, “S-son of a whore.” He hissed.

“C-clyde…you got hurt because of me.” Tweek’s voice was barely audible. His eyes watered again, but tears never fell. He became numb, “I…”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Tweek flinched, eyes wide.

Clydesdale flashed a crooked grin, “You wouldn’t want Craig to see you cry, right?” He added playfully as he messed up the blond’s hair, “I’m fine.” He assured, “Can’t be a guard without knowing how to take a hit. Even if that hit hurt like a bitch…” He whined.

Tweek covered his face, chuckling weakly.

Clydesdale smiled as Tweek helped him back onto his feet, “What did you do? Bartles shit himself!” He laughed.

Tweek started to panic, “N-nothing!” He lied, “O-oh gods…”

“Oi, oi. Don’t worry. We’ll get him back.” The guard assured, holding onto his head, “After I sleep this bump off.” He grumbled.

“N-no. You’re going straight to the physician!” Tweek retorted before whistling for Stripe to follow. The cavy had stopped eating long ago to watch the scene at play and had been sitting, still watching. His ear flickered when Tweek whistled and he stood to walk over. The cavy sniffed the two once close, only to leave them and head back toward the castle.

Stripe didn’t much care for being traded off to a servant he didn’t like and brought back to his master’s bedroom. Tolkien raised an eyebrow upon seeing the rodent without Tweek, “Excuse me.” He said, stopping the woman.

“Apologies.” She bowed, “Tweek asked me to drop the sire’s pet off whilst he take guard Clydesdale to the physician.” She informed and Tolkien felt his heart sink.

“What happened to Clyde?”

Tweek sat outside the door of the physician. Clydesdale said he could stay in the room, but Tweek just couldn’t do it. A part of him knew his friend was alright, but all he could think about was how the guard could have died. And died for him. Someone who hadn’t been worth it.

“Tweek!” He heard Tolkien shout from across the hall.

Tweek hurried to his feet, “H-he’s inside!”

Tolkien nodded as he went to go in. He stopped briefly to check Tweek for any injuries, “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I…I’m fine.” He muttered.

Tolkien nodded, then pat Tweek’s back as he went inside.

Tweek stared at the floor below blankly. Slowly, his back hit the wall and he slipped back down. _Clyde’s fine_ , he told himself over and over again. _The guard knows what you really are. You’re so stupid, Tweek. Craig will find out soon and the king. You’ll be killed and if Clyde died today, it would have been in vain._ Tweek grabbed his head, trying to silence his thoughts. He pulled at his hair, causing tears to streak down the corner of his face.

He wanted to disappear.

Not die exactly, but cease to exist.

“Tweek?” He heard faintly.

“Tweek!” He heard a bit closer.

A hand touched his thigh and he flinched, banging his head against the wall. Craigston was bent down to him. He was still wearing his chain mail from training, with Stanley just behind him. The knight looked Tweek over before walking into the physician’s room. Craigston frowned deeply as he took Tweek’s head gently into his hands and leaned him down slightly.

“Are you alright?” He asked, trying to check the back of his head.

Tweek pulled away and nearly pushed the prince back, “C-clyde.”

“I heard.” He interrupted.

Tweek stared down, eyes filling with tears.

Craigston’s frown never left, “What happened? I know something’s going on. Clyde and Tolkien don’t lie to me often, but I know when they are.”

“I-I…it’s all my fault, Craig!” His body rocked as he held himself, “I should have walked Stripe alone. T-then Clyde wouldn’t have gotten hurt…”

“But you would have.” The prince pointed out.

Tweek’s eyelids lowered, he didn’t see what had been wrong with that. He didn’t reply, however, only shrugged. Craigston watched the blond closely before taking his hand suddenly. Before Tweek could react, the prince yanked him back onto his feet and brought him inside.

“Craig!” Clydesdale grinned.

Tolkien was speaking privately with the physician as Stanley leaned against the wall. Craigston squinted his eyes and watched the conversation. Judging from Tolkien’s expression, Clydesdale had been just fine. The prince sighed as he brought Tweek over to his guard. He then punched the guard with his free hand, but was careful as he did.

Clydesdale laughed while rubbing his shoulder, “Respect the wounded!” He teased, smiling when he saw Tweek.

Tweek looked anywhere, but at Clydesdale.

“Don’t get hurt again.” Craigston ordered his friend before speaking again, “And tell Tweek it wouldn’t have been better if he got hurt instead of you.”

Tweek squeezed down on Craigston’s hand on reflex. He then became far too aware that they were holding hands. The prince released his hand a second later to fold his arms over his chest. Clydesdale looked between the two, confused.

He then frowned, “Tweek. Do you really think that?”

Tweek looked to his feet, “Y-yes. You…you matter more than I do.” He said, reaching to grab at the fabric of his tunic. He then flinched when Clydesdale grabbed his shoulder. Tweek’s eyes shot up to look at the goofy guard.

But Clydesdale wasn’t smiling, “Don’t be stupid.” He told him harshly. Tweek winced at his words, but went to object. “I’d take a hundred bumps on the head for you.” He then said, smiling a wide grin. “We all would.”

Tolkien smiled his agreement.

“I mean…they can try.” Stanley added, as if to say he wouldn’t have gotten hit had it been him.

Tweek glanced around the room before looking to Craigston and the prince’s anger softened briefly.

“See?” He said.

Tweek took fistfuls of his tunic, shuttering a breath. “T-thank you…” He whispered.

Craigston nodded his head. He then ordered the physician to leave. The warmth in Tweek’s heart froze over the second the man left the room. “Now,” The prince began calmly, “Who would like to tell me what the fuck's been going on?”


	6. The dance with Death

“Now,” The prince began calmly, “Who would like to tell me what the fuck's been going on?”

Tweek stared downward as the others exchanged glances.

Craigston wasn’t amused, “Well?” He pressed, looking to everyone before his eyes found Tweek. Tweek could feel the prince’s deep blue eyes upon him. They pierced through the fabric of his tunic and the flesh underneath. His heart pounded harder in his chest with each passing second.

Stanley cleared his throat when no one spoke up, “Bartles.” He informed, causing both Tolkien and Clydesdale to glare at him.

Tolkien then sighed, “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“We promised Tweek!” Clydesdale blurted, cursing at himself after he had.

Tweek bit his lip, “D-don’t be angry with them. It’s my fault. I…I should have told you myself. But I didn’t want…” He winced, unable to finish.

Stanley continued, “We all took turns watching after Tweek when we could. Bartles and his group stayed away for the most part. His buddies abandoned him after a while too.” The knight noted. “Do you want me to take care of him?” He then asked.

Craigston’s fists were clenched, but otherwise there was no sign that he had been livid. He breathed out deeply a moment later and spoke so calmly that even Tolkien had been uneasy, “Guys? Leave the room. I wish to speak with Tweek privately.”

“But Craig---“ Clydesdale started to say, but was silenced by Tolkien’s hand on his shoulder. The guard frowned, “Go easy on the poor guy.” He grumbled, following his ebony friend.

Craigston’s eyes stayed on Tweek. His face was impassive and Tweek found himself unable to read the prince. “Get some rest, Clyde.” Craigston called out as his guards left the room.

Stanley pushed himself off the wall and stretched, “Good luck.” He told Tweek as he too left the room.

Tweek twitched nervously as soon as he and the prince had been alone. Craigston’s eyelids lowered briefly. He then frowned as he walked toward his servant. Tweek stifled a flinch when the prince stopped in front of him. He knew Craigston would never harm him, but he feared the worst.

That he hated him.

Tweek couldn’t blame the prince, of course. He shut his eyes tightly, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. Then, Craigston lifted his chin and Tweek’s eyes shot open on reflex. He used his free hand to touch Tweek’s forehead. Tweek blushed horribly as the hand upon his chin moved to lift his collar up. Craigston’s eyes narrowed at the red line that now disfavored Tweek’s neck.

“Since that time?” He asked, as he pulled both hands away. “That bruise. You said you fell, but it was from him?” The prince asked, hatred floating around the thought of Bartles.

Tweek blinked a few times, trying to remember, but he had still been flustered. He then recalled the first time Bartles attacked him in the court yard. A bruise formed on his forehead the next day from hitting the bench too hard. Tweek frowned and nodded his head weakly.

Craigston scowled and turned away, “And that mark?” He asked a moment later, looking back to Tweek.

Tweek flinched, touching his collar and then his neck.

“Was that from him too?” The prince asked, venom clinging to each word.

“N-no.” Tweek said, feeling as if he hadn’t spoken in years. “M-my collar just reacted poorly t-to…something.” His grip tightened as he glanced away. “I-I should have just l-let him.”

“Let him?” Craigston pulled Tweek’s hand away from his collar, “You should have told me sooner is what you should have done.”

“I-I know.” Tweek whispered, looking back down.

Craigston sighed out deeply as he tugged the blond over to him. Tweek blushed brightly when the prince hugged him suddenly.

“C-craig?” Tweek was certain the other boy could feel his heart pounding out of his chest and against the prince’s. Craigston didn’t reply, only gave him a good squeeze.

When he pulled away, Tweek noticed pink tinted cheeks that matched his own. The prince turned away quickly and headed for the door, “You should nap before supper. I’m sure you could use it.” He added, almost softly.

“O-oh. Okay!” Tweek pawed at his chest as his heart continued to beat faster. He then smiled, happy that the prince hadn’t been angry with him. He didn’t deserve it, but Tweek was grateful all the same.

“A-and I’ll prepare you a bath.” The blond added, feeling some ease.

Tweek’s fear of Bartles increased after napping. He woke up in Craigston’s bed, cuddling Stripe. Flinching, he sat up and the cavy jumped off the bed. The prince sat on the bed’s edge, drying his hair.

“Tweek?” He questioned, turning to look at him.

Tweek gripped the pillow, “S-sorry. I…didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” He stammered, looking away from the half-naked prince.

Craigston chuckled lightly as he moved to get dressed, “Like it matters.” He said, shrugging some. “It’s just a bed, after all.”

Tweek thought about telling Craigston that there was magic within him. Somehow, at least. Tweek still didn’t fully understand what he had been. Bartles witnessed enough, however, and it was only a matter of time before the jaded guard told everyone.

“C-craig?” His servant pipped up, pulling the pillow into his lap to claw at like a cat trying to knead. His eyes remained down as the prince turned back around.

“Hm?”

“A-about Bartles…” He started to say, but the prince waved a dismissive hand.

“Put him out of your head.” Craigston replied as he finished getting dressed, “Now come on. As much as I love to hear my father’s ranting about how inadequate I am as a prince. I don’t.”

Tweek fumbled off the prince’s bed, “R-right!” And hurried over to Craigston’s side. Craigston looked him over briefly before fixing his hair. This caused Tweek to hold his breath. He then released the breath he had been holding, only when the prince stepped away.

“Y-you’re not an inadequate prince…by the way. I think you’re great.” Tweek confessed as they left the room.

Craigston smiled to himself as he led their way, “If you say so.” He replied with a simple shrug.

The king looked rather irritated when his son entered with Tweek. Tweek’s anxiety began to take hold as he looked around the room, trying to find Bartles. To his great relief, Bartles hadn’t been there. And, whatever had been bothering the king, Craigston seemed to know about. The two glared at each other, but neither spoke until Craigston sat down.

“I heard Princess Barbara---” The king began.

“No.” Craigston shot down before taking to his food.

Tweek poured the prince his drink, trying his best not to shake as he did. His head tilted to the side at the barely conversation and he found himself looking to the prince for answers.

Craigston avoided his gaze. He then cleared his throat, “Father. Could you summon one of your guards for me? Bartles.”

Tweek flinched, thankful he had already set the jug down. “S-sire?” Tweek whispered, but was ignored.

The king rolled his eyes, “What for?”

“I need to speak with him.” Craigston responded flatly.

His father sighed, “Here? Now?” And his son only nodded. The king bitched and moaned, but used a guard within the room to summon the other guard in question.

Tweek couldn’t breathe. Everything around him felt far off as king and prince bickered about something in the distance of his mind. He stumbled backward and nearly fell. Gathering himself, Tweek held his head. _This isn’t happening_ , he told himself.

_It can’t_.

“What’s wrong with your servant?” The king asked, annoyed.

Craigston almost stood up, almost showed his concern. He frowned instead, “Tweek.” He said, firm but softly.

Tweek flinched his hands away and bowed, “S-sorry.” He practically whispered.

“Ah. Bartles.” They heard the king say as the guard entered the room.

Craigston narrowed his eyes briefly before sitting back down and falling into a calm demeanor. He then closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair some.

Bartles frowned, looking around the room. His eyes grew wide when he spotted Tweek, “H-him! He’s…sire!”

The prince’s eyes shot open, “Bartles.” He stated with no emotion, beckoning him over. Bartles kept his eyes on the shaking Tweek as he walked around him. He then stopped at the table and near prince Craigston.

Bartles bowed briefly before speaking, “There’s something I need to tell you. Both of you.” He said, looking in between the king and his son.

King Tuckerton raised his brow, curiously.

“Tweek,” Bartles began, but was cut off by Craigston.

“Don’t speak his name.” The prince said, his tone dripping with contempt.

“But sire he’s---“

“Place your hand on the table.” Craigston ordered, almost softly.

“Ex…excuse me?” Bartles dared, glancing toward his king. The king only shrugged, interested to see what his son had been up to. The guard swallowed hard, but did as he was told. He put his hand on the table and all Tweek could see was a club in it. It shoving his head against the bench in the court yard. Tweek hated that hand. Then, Bartles screamed. Craigston stabbed his hand with a knife from the table, so quickly, Tweek hardly caught the action. He flinched, covering his mouth and stifling a horrified gasp.

Bartles fell to his knees. His free hand shook as he attempted to take the knife out, but Craigston only twisted the blade. “Do NOT touch MY servant. Understand?” He said, his eyes dark. The prince glanced toward Tweek before looking back at Bartles, “Nor MY guards.” He added, ripping the knife out with little care.

“B-b-but sire! He’s---!” Bartles stammered, cradling his bleeding hand.

Craigston flashed a deadly glare and the guard silenced himself.

“Dismissed.” The king said, shaking his head.

Tweek held his chest as he watched Bartles hurry out of the room.

“Tweek.” He heard the king said and was quick to turn to him.

“Y-yes, sire!?” He bowed, kicking himself mentally for shouting.

“Give us the room.” He ordered.

Tweek flinched upright and glanced toward Craigston.

“I’ll bring him to his chambers.” The prince said, standing.

“You will sit.” His father snapped.

Craigston ignored him and headed for the door, “I’ll return soon, father.” He stated, his voice stoic. Tweek twitched when the king slammed his fists down on the table. “Tweek.” He heard Craigston call. He then bowed to the boiling king before hurrying the fleeing prince. Craigston was quiet on the walk back to their chambers. He walked fast. Tweek could hardly keep up without practically jogging.

Clydesdale was back at his post and grinned upon seeing the two.

Tolkien frowned, “Everything alright?”

Craigston moved to open Tweek’s door, “Watch Tweek’s room.” He ordered, as if they needed to be told. Tweek opened his mouth to speak, but was pushed lightly into his room.  

Craigston turned to leave, but Tweek surprised him, grabbing him by the arm.

“C-craig!” The boy shouted, staring down and at the floor. The prince froze briefly. He then frowned and turned back inside, shutting the door behind him.

“You shouldn’t…have done that.” The blond whispered, wincing at nothing. His grip tightened on Craigston’s arm, “W-why did you…” He started to ask, but couldn’t finish.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” The prince replied, his tone too serious for Tweek’s heart.

The servant didn’t know how to respond. Then, he remembered when Craigston hugged him and decided to try that. The prince’s body became rigid, but only for a moment. The feeling of Craigston wrapping his arms around Tweek drove the blond mad, but also calmed him so. He wondered what the prince thought about them hugging.

Craigston hid his face in Tweek’s hair, breathing him in. He cared for his servant, that much he knew. However, he was growing increasingly aware that Tweek had been the only person to make him feel things. Not only to feel them, but to be engulfed by them. Such raw emotion that scared the prince when he was alone with his thoughts at night.

After what felt like hours, Craigston pulled away. He cleared his throat, turning to hide the pink tickling his cheeks. “I have to go.” He stated plainly, trying desperately not to sound as if he didn’t want to.

Tweek tried pulling his hair down to cover his face, but it hadn’t been long enough. “G-good luck.” He squeaked and Craigston had to fight the smile off.

“I’ll see you for supper.” He told the blond, leaving his room.

Tweek stared at his door a moment. Slowly, he hugged himself and could still feel Craigston there. A nervous smile crept up on his face and he had to rub his cheeks to stop himself from giggling. On the other side of said door, Craigston fell back and leaned against it for support. His face had been growing hot and he covered it with his hand to try and ease some of the heat.

“You alright there, sire?” Clydesdale teased.

The prince lowered his hand to glare, “I stabbed Bartles in the hand.” He then fixed his crown before leaving his guards to gawk. The moment he returned to his father, the screaming began. Craigston wasn’t surprised, just worn out. He remained quiet, at first; allowing his father to rant and degrade him. Then, the man mentioned Tweek and the prince frowned. He tried to stay quiet and just let his old man tire himself out. Yet, there he had been screaming back.

The fight echoed all throughout the castle. Tweek slipped out of his room, but was stopped by the prince’s guards. Clydesdale looked to him with sympathetic eyes as the blond twitched nervously. Even from their station, all could hear the yelling.

Tolkien flashed Tweek a reassuring smile, but he looked down, “This happens sometimes.” He admitted, looking back up. “Don’t blame yourself.” He added as Tweek pulled at the sleeves of his tunic. How could he not blame himself? He twitched, looking around before taking in a deep breath.

“Tweek? What are you---” Tolkien called out, but Clydesdale was already following after the messy haired boy.

Tweek’s mind screamed at him to stop, that he had to know his place. Instead, he shoved all his anxiety deep in the back of his psyche as he burst into the room. The king was in Craigston’s face when Tweek entered. Stanley walked over from behind Clydesdale with Tolkien just reaching them.

“What’s going on?” The knight asked.

Tweek exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. The room grew cold as he walked toward Craigston and put himself in between the two eminence figures. “M-my lord,” Tweek began as he bowed his head, “I-I know you’re angry with Prince Craig but---“

Craigston seemed surprised, “Tweek?” He questioned, only to frown. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low as he glanced at his father.

The king was anything but pleased. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but was stunned by Tweek’s outburst.

“No!” The blond shouted, pushing Craigston onto the ground, suddenly.

“Tweek!? What the fuck are you do---“ The prince retorted, freezing when he noticed the dagger in his servant’s arm.

Tweek winced, holding his shoulder. Stanley reacted quickly, rushing over to the embrasure where a man had perched himself. The hooded figure, cladded in black, smirked before jumping backwards. The knight glared, sword ready to strike but he didn’t.

The man was gone.

Clydesdale rushed over with Tolkien, both surprised to see no body below. Where he had gone, neither had known. They exchanged glances, only to look back at the prince. Craigston was knelt down, holding Tweek up.

“Tweek!” Both cried, hurrying over to the two.

Tweek winced again, eyes shut, and his breathing hard. Craigston’s hand shook as he went to pull the dagger out of his servant’s shoulder, “Breathe.” He ordered gently and Tweek obeyed to the best of his abilities.

Tolkien bent down and took the blade from the prince once yanked out. He frowned deeply, “Craig.” Tolkien whispered, pointing to the poison laced at its tip.

Clydesdale’s eyes widened, “N-no.”

Tweek’s eyelids fluttered as he fought just to keep them open. His vision blurred, but he smiled. “Are you…o-okay?” He asked Craigston weakly.

The prince’s shock faded as he tore the sleeve off his own arm to wrap Tweek’s wound, “Don’t talk.” He told him firmly, but his voice was breaking. His hands weren’t as steady as they normally would be. But he ignored himself to scoop Tweek up and into his arms, “He needs to see the physician NOW.”

“Forget the slave. We need to get somewhere safe, son.” His father protested, but Craigston shot him a glare and left the room without another word. Clydesdale and Tolkien went to follow, but the king ordered them back to their posts. “Stanley. Look after my foolish son.” He then ordered and the knight nodded, already on his way out of the room.

“Do you need me to carry him?” Stanley offered, but the prince didn’t respond.

Tweek grimaced as the poison darkened his veins. His collar felt warm against his neck and seemed to be reacting to the assault on his body.

_“Tweek.”_

He heard Craigston’s voice, but it was faint. He wasn’t sure if the prince was whispering or if he himself was fading.

“Hang in there.” He heard and it hadn’t been the tone he was accustomed to, it was weak and almost pleading.

Stanley opened the door to the physician. The man in question, however, hadn’t been there. His son jumped, startled. He was around their age, but appeared younger on account of his baby face. The boy’s hair was bright blond, short and spiky. His eyes innocent and sky blue. He smiled and it wasn’t forced, but shy.

“Hello lads!”

“Leopold?” Stanley questioned, only to shake his head. “Where’s your father? We have a bit of an emergency.” The knight added grimly, turning as Craigston set Tweek down on a bed of straw.

Leopold tilted his head to the side, “Oh jeez. I’m sorry, Stanley. Father went to aid mother with a birth.” He informed the knight before walking over to Craigston with Tweek.

“Get him here.” The prince snapped as he kept his eyes focused on Tweek’s breathing. Craigston kept his hands upon his thighs, but clenched them into tight balls.

“I can help!” Leopold offered.

Stanley raised an eyebrow, “You can?”

“Yes, sir. May I?”

Craigston only nodded, “Yes. Please…”

Leopold smiled brightly as he left the room. Stanley turned sharply, “What the hell? Where are you going?” He called out, but the boy was already gone.

Craigston ignored the exchange. He focused solely on Tweek and grew visibly distraught when he’s breathing started to slow down. The dark purple over the boy’s veins splintered and then spider webbed all over his body. Tweek clenched painfully as the marks traveled up towards neck. Craigston noticed ice forming and painting the edges of Tweek’s collar. The prince leaned in closer and examined words that had been etching themselves on the interior of the metal, but he did not recognize the language.

Stanley frowned deeply as he stepped forward, “Sire?” He called, trying to pry the prince’s attention away from Tweek.

“What’s this?” Craigston asked no one in particular.

Then, Leopold returned with a bounce in his step. He was holding a plain jug, but the cup in his other hand had stood out. It was made from a rare metal and had an unusual design, with tiny jewels that decorated its rim. The cheerful boy poured a warm liquid into the cup and moved over to Tweek. Craigston looked up at him and shot him a warning look. The boy nearly flinched and handed the prince the cup instead.

Craigston frowned. He knew Leopold was only trying to help, but he didn’t apologize. Taking the cup with one hand, the prince used his other to scoop under Tweek’s head. He was quite gentle as he lifted his servant’s head and tilted him up slightly. Craigston closed one eye as he brushed Tweek’s lips with the rim of the cup and slowly pried them apart. His heart started beating faster and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Pushing the thumping aside, the prince poured the drink into Tweek’s mouth. Tweek coughed a second later, but Craigston didn’t stop until the cup was empty. He then set the cup down and helped Tweek sit up to rub his back.

“U-ugh.” Tweek groaned, curling into Craigston. The dark markings over his skin faded quickly. His breathing had stabilized as his eyes opened.

The prince embraced the frail boy on reflex, “Tweek.” He breathed, hugging him close. “Are you alright?” He asked softly and Tweek only nodded and squeaked when he was squeezed.

Then, Craigston pulled away and his expression fell. “Don’t ever do that again.” He told the blond sternly, holding him up by his shoulders. “Do you hear me?” He added, his voice pained.

Tweek blushed, “I-I can’t promise that. I want to protect you too, Craig.”

Craigston felt the surprise in his eyes and the blush upon his face. He looked away from Tweek, eyelids lowering some. His grip was still on the boy’s shoulders and it tightened, only to loosen a second later. He then stood, gathering himself. Turning to Stanley, his face fell back into its default state; revealing little to no emotion.

“Find the assassin. I want his head.” He ordered.

Stanley put his hand to his chest and bowed his head before leaving the room. He didn’t need to look far for the assassin, for he knew exactly who it had been. First, the knight needed to take care of Bartles. The assassin would be dealt with later.

Craigston turned to Leopold next and bowed, “Thank you.”

Leopold staggered to bow back, “O-of course, mi lord!”

Finally, the prince turned back to Tweek who looked like his old self, aside from the tired look in his eyes. “Let’s get you in bed. You should rest.” He said, putting his hand out for his servant to take. Tweek twitched briefly as he reached for Craigston’s hand and was helped back onto his feet.

“Can you walk? Are you sure you’re alright?”

Tweek smiled fondly, “I’m fine, Craig-g.”

It was hard to believe. A moment ago, Tweek had been on death’s door. Craigston didn’t know what had been in the jug, but it couldn’t have been a simple antidote. He thought about the cup and wondered briefly if it had been a magical item. Then, he thought about the strange writing on Tweek’s collar, as well as, his sessions. Bartles came to mind. The guard nearly said something about Tweek; something urgent, but Craigston had cut him off.

Tweek noticed Craigston’s brow furrowing some and tilted his head to the side. He gave his hand a squeeze and that seemed to bring the prince back.

“I promise.” The blond added without twitching or stuttering.

Craigston nodded more to himself than to Tweek as he walked out of the room with him. Once out in the halls, he reluctantly released Tweek’s hand. The prince walked carefully back toward their chambers, deathly quiet the entire way. Tweek started to twitch as they walked in silence. He wanted to ask what it was he was given to drink. Wanted to talk about the figure that tried to kill Craigston. No words came out, however.

“Tweek!” Clydesdale cried when they returned. He hurried over and hugged the twitchy blond, ignoring his jerky motions.

Tolkien flashed Craigston a knowing smile before walking over to Tweek, as well. He pried the brunet off the blond and Tweek sighed his relief. He then froze as Tolkien hugged him next, “We’re glad you’re alright.” He said before pulling away, “Thank you for saving Craig’s life…we owe you everything, Tweek.”

Tweek blushed brightly, but couldn’t respond.

“Are you hungry? You must be!” Clydesdale beamed. “Let’s eat! A feast for the castle hero.” He mused, nudging Tweek playfully.

Tweek rubbed his arm, “I-I’m no hero. But supper sounds nice.” He added sheepishly, peeking over at Craigston. The prince was difficult to read again, but he flashed Tweek a small and faint smile. Tweek smiled back.

The boys fell back into their dinner routine. Though, Craigston seemed to be holding back a bit. Tweek wasn’t surprised that the prince’s mind was occupied, a lot had happened after all. His own mind raced, but Tweek tried to push passed it. Or, at the very least, pretend to.

Once finished, the guards said their goodbyes and moved to leave. Normally, Craigston would stay behind and spend an hour or so with Tweek before heading to bed. Alternately, the prince rose and ushered for Tweek to follow him.

“Goodnight.” He told his guards, heading into his room.

Tweek stood in the hallway for a moment, bewildered. He then flinched when he heard Craigston call out to him and hurried inside. Clydesdale snickered from behind the door, then grunted as he was likely smacked by Tolkien.

“C-craig?” Tweek peeped, eyes darting around the room.

Craigston didn’t answer him, only moved to change into his night clothes. Tweek looked away, but the prince stepped behind his divider.

“You’ll be sleeping here tonight.”

Tweek flinched, “W-what?” He had napped in the prince’s bed, but sleeping was different. Would they be sharing a bed? The thought came to mind and made Tweek squirm as a ball of fire formed inside of him.

The prince slipped out from behind his divider and moved to gather new clothes for Tweek to sleep in. He handed the clothes over and ushered the nervous blond behind his divider. Tweek twitched, trying hard not to make any of his involuntary sounds. He then changed into the clothes the prince gave him. They were softer than what he had been used to and he wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling against his skin or not. His shoulder was sore but, as he touched it, he felt his wound had vanished. Tweek tugged the sleeve down, not wanting the prince to notice.

“C-craig?” He called, looking around for him.

“Out here.” Craigston replied.

Tweek rubbed his forearms as he looked around. He then followed the prince’s voice to his balcony. Stripe was curled against the raven haired boy’s side. Tweek watched the two a moment, unable to hide the affection in his eyes.

Craigston glanced up at him, “Sit.”

Tweek clenched his chest before nodding his head. He moved to sit beside Craigston, peeking over at Stripe at the prince’s other side. Stripe’s ear flickered briefly, but he otherwise remained sleeping.

“I’m not the best with words.” The prince started to say as he looked up at the sky. Tweek followed his gaze and was awestruck at the sight. The forecast had been so clear, allowing the stars in the sky to shine brighter.

“I want you to know something, Tweek.” Craigston started to say, petting Stripe for both comfort and support, though his face remained stoic.

Tweek could feel his heart racing. One hand had stayed upon his chest and clenched at the fabric. His other, rested on the balcony’s cool stone. Unexpectedly, he felt something warm touch his hand. Tweek nearly flinched his hand away, but it had only been Craigston’s hand. The prince took Tweek’s hand into his own for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“You’re more than just a servant to me.”

Tweek’s eyes widened. He thought about what Kylen had said about the two being friends. His heart felt full at the thought, but something else lingered. He cared about Craigston more than anyone else. Tweek was willing to die for the prince. A crushing feeling took hold of his chest as he realized his feelings.

He loved Craig.

Craigston intertwined their fingers and Tweek’s heart skipped a beat. He had no idea what the prince thought about him. He figured that he cared, but didn’t know to what extent. The thought of asking crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment. He decided then that he would stay by Craigston’s side, no matter what the prince felt for him. His eyelids lowered as the warmth in his heart swallowed his anxieties whole and he rested his head on his prince’s shoulder.

_You’re the stars in my sky,_ they both thought.

Elsewhere, Stanley spoke privately with Kylen in his study. The two discussed Bartles, Leopold, and the assassination attempt. They both cursed a known friend for the attempt.

Wendelyn entered the room soon after with Leopold trailing behind her, “I brought Leo. What’s going on, Stan?”

Stanley frowned, “Give Kyle his cup back.”

Leopold rubbed the back of his head, “Gee. I didn’t know it was Kylen’s. I just saw all the magic dancing around it and thought it would help save that servant boy!”

Kylen frowned as he took his cup back, “Are you a caster? Have you been this entire time, Leo?”

Wendelyn chuckled, “He’s a healer.” She pointed out.

Leopold’s smile was naïve, “Been a healer my whole life! Father makes me fix people when he can’t. Says I can’t tell anyone, though. So it’s secret! You won’t tell, right? I could get into a lot of trouble with my father.”

“Your father? The king would have you hanged.” Stanley said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Magic is outlawed, Leo. How are you this dense?”

“H-hanged?” The healer gasped, covering his mouth.

“Yes, Leo. That is why you must be careful.” Wendelyn told him softly, but Stanley could tell she had been upset. “You’ve been dormant this long without a slip. Don’t let it happen again, okay?” She added, feigning a smile.

“The prince is already suspicious.” The knight informed.

“Bartles knows something.” Kylen added.

Wendelyn frowned, “Oh no.”

“We have to get rid of him or Tweek will be outed.” Stanley said, solemnly.

The three exchanged glances before looking back at Stanley.

“I have an idea.” Leopold piped.

Stanley smirked, “We’re all ears.”

In the morning, Bartles awoke to his room filled with knights of the king. The king stood in the door way, glaring. Stanley was among the knights, smirking from under his helmet. Bartles’ shock was replaced with anger when he spotted Stanley’s cocky grin, “What’s this about?” The guard asked, looking around the room before his eyes fell upon the king. He bowed, “M-my lord?” He asked.

“We found the poison, Bartles.” The king hissed.

“Poison?” The guard asked, flinching when the knights stepped closer.

“I knew you would be angry with my son after what he had done…but assassination? I can’t look away from this, Bartles. You are hereby dishonored and sentenced to death.”

“My lord, please!” Bartles moved to get out of bed, but was pushed back down. “I would never!” He tried to plea, “It wasn’t me! I-I swear to you!” His eyes then met Stanley’s and he froze, “You…”

Stanley flashed a taunting smirk and Bartles growled. He then turned away and left the other knights to take his place at the king’s side. King Tuckerson left the room with Stanley, waving his hand as he did. The order was placed and Bartles was stabbed from every angle.


	7. Friends in low Places

Bartles had always been disliked, be it by the other guards or the servants. He was an annoying terror who harassed more than he had actually worked. Still, no one could believe the guard had attempted to kill Prince Craigston. He wasn’t exactly the smartest nor was his athletic ability impressive. Then, there was the glaring issue of it all: the fact that the assaults’ hand hadn’t been wounded. However, the assassin was wearing dark gloves so the issue was soon dropped. The poison had been enough evidence for the king and the castle.

Kylen knew his group had been walking on thin ice. As the days pressed on, that ice grew thinner. He feared for himself and the casters but, mostly, he feared for Stanley. The knight had been close to the king, which worked in their advantage. But it also put him in great danger. Danger, that Kylen never stopped thinking about.

He was sitting at his desk, thinking about how everything seemed to be spinning out of control and at such a miserably slow pace. A knock at the door brought Kylen back, if only for a moment. He closed his eyes and cleared his head before answering. There, he found Wendelyn waiting outside with Tweek.

“Hey you two.” Kylen said, forcing a smile. “Come on in.” He added, stepping aside so that they may enter.

“Hello Kyle. How are you this day?” Wendelyn asked as Tweek twitched about.

Kylen shut the door behind them, “I’m quite well. How are you? And you, Tweek?”

“I’m well.” Wendelyn replied gently.

“I-I nngh, I’m good.” Tweek twitched again, glancing around the room as if it had been somewhere new. Kylen got used to his discomfort. Even as time passed, Tweek didn’t feel completely comfortable during their sessions. The scholar wasn’t insulted, the fact Tweek continued to visit had been enough.

Kylen smiled, “Glad to hear it.” He said, moving to make tea. “Must be a relief. Bartles.” He ventured and Tweek’s body released an involuntary spasm.

“C-craig…doesn’t think it was him.”

Wendelyn raised an eyebrow, glancing toward Kylen. He felt her eyes on him, but kept his own on the tea he had been pouring. Kylen felt nervous and was sure it showed on his smile. As he returned, he looked away from Wendelyn furtively.

“Well,” He began as he handed out the cups, “I’m sure Stan will handle it.”

Wendelyn continued to look at Kylen suspiciously as she took to her drink, “I hear something interesting happened. With the collar? It reacted to the poison.” She noted, turning her attention over to Tweek.

“W-what?” He twitched violently and nearly dropped his cup. “I don’t NNGH remember much from that day.” He admitted. 

His eyes became wide a moment later, “W-who…who saw?”

“Stanley.” Wendelyn supplied and Tweek’s anxiety lessened some.

Kylen cleared his throat, “There was some kind of writing. Stan didn’t recognize it, but I might. May I take a look?” He asked and Tweek reached up to grab at his collar, protectively. Taking a breath, he calmed himself down; mumbling something Craigston told him, no doubt.

“O-okay.” The blond whispered, eyes darting about.

Kylen set his tea down to walk over to Tweek. The servant moved his collar slightly, trying to give him a better angle to see. The scholar frowned, unable to see anything.

“If it was there…it isn’t anymore.” Kylen stated, walking away to find something that came to mind.

Wendelyn flashed Tweek a comforting smile before looking to Kylen. “The enchantment must be powerful to be hidden so well.” She noted, “Do you have anything strong enough?”

Kylen found the tiny bag he was looking for. It had been locked away in a small chest and placed in a secret compartment, crafted in his desk. He returned with the bag and scooped out the powder within.

Wendelyn gasped as he blew the powder against Tweek’s collar, “Is that fairy dust?!” She exclaimed, flabbergasted. “But they’ve been extinct for decades! Where did you get that, Kyle?”

Tweek cried out, covering his mouth and nose on reflex. The writing appeared in a faint glow a moment later. Kylen read quickly, for the words vanished as quickly as they appeared.

“…jashi batobot svabolen meageic wux…” He repeated, hesitantly.

“Is that?” Wendelyn paled, “Was that draconic?”

Kylen swallowed hard. He half expected something terrible to happen, but nothing had. Tweek remained in his seat, shaking. His eyes were wide, but it was hard to tell if it had been from the powder startling him or the words.

The room was quiet a long while before Wendelyn braved speaking again, “Either that collar was enchanted by Merlin himself or…”

“A dragon.” Kylen remarked, wistfully.

“There’s no way.” Wendelyn said, laughing nervously as she did. “Dragons have been extinct longer than fairies…Elves even! There’s just no way.” She stammered.

The two exchanged glances before looking over to Tweek. The boy continued to shake, staring at nothing in particular. He then laughed and it nearly startled the room.

“Tweek?” Kylen questioned, cautiously. 

“It couldn’t be simple could it? W-why would anything be simple for me?” Tweek laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “I-It’s fine. I don’t want it off a-anyway. It keeps me from hurting other people a-and it keeps me safe.”

Wendelyn frowned, “There’s still a chance you might lose control. And your memories,” She started to say, but Tweek cut her off.

“I-I don’t care about my memories.” He retorted, staring down.

When he spoke again, it had been softer. “B-but I…I don’t want to lose control. Can you, can you help me?” He asked Wendelyn, peeking up at her.

Wendelyn smiled warmly, “Of course.”

“You can practice with us.” Kylen offered.

Tweek seemed surprised, “Y-you? You’re a caster too, Kylen?”

Kylen chuckled, “I’m not very good. I have to use items…or scrolls.” He confessed, self-consciously.

“Hush, you’re fine.” Wendelyn said, rolling her eyes without malice. She then smiled, “We could try a few things right now. I know you have to meet up with Stan soon, Kyle.” She pointed out, causing Kylen to blush.

“R-right.” He gulped, feeling anxious the longer she looked at him.

Wendelyn smiled almost knowingly, “You should come over. Join us for supper?” She offered sweetly, eyes smiling.

“I-I uh…maybe.” Kylen stumbled to find an excuse, moving to stand instead. Clearing his throat, the scholar left the two and gathered his scrolls. “Let’s start with scrolls, Tweek.” He said, returning with a faraway look and a smile reeking of façade.

After their session, Kylen watched Wendelyn and Tweek leave from the comfort of his door way. He moved to straighten up and left his study a moment later. Leopold caught him just as he was leaving, panting.

He had been running.

“K-kylen!” The carefree boy proclaimed.

Kylen smiled a bit, “Greetings, Leopold.”

“I’m glad I caught ya! Are you meeting up with Stanley?” He asked sweetly.

The scholar raised his brow, “Yeah. How did you…?”

“Can I join? Ericson owes me money.” He huffed.

Kylen laughed at that, “Of course he does.”

Walking with Leopold, Kylen met Stanley just outside the castle gates. The knight looked somewhat displeased to see Leopold with Kylen, but he said nothing on the matter. The three boys then headed into town and soon the tavern. Ericson had been trying his hand at checkers and losing horribly. Kylen stood behind him and studied the match before pointing out a winning move to Ericson’s opponent. The man looked surprised, but followed through.

He grinned a toothless grin, “My coin, good sir!”

Ericson was steaming. He paid the man and cursed his entire family before turning to Kylen, “You owe me coin, heretic.”

Kylen rolled his eyes, “You were going to lose, fatass. I just hurried it along. Speaking of coin, don’t you owe Leo some?”

Leopold waved from behind Stanley, who folded his arms over his chest.  

Ericson smiled sweetly, or it appeared to be. “Leo!” He purred, pushing passed the knight to hug the small blond. “My friend,” He went on to say, “How have you been?”

“I’m good! I helped save Prince Craigston’s favorite servant. He bowed to me and everything! You should have seen it.” He replied, excitedly.

“Oh that’s great, friend.” Ericson mused, patting his back.

Kylen and Stanley exchanged annoyed looks. Kylen then shook his head, “Where’s Ken?” He asked, noticing the scruffy blond hadn’t been around.

“Balls deep in some overpriced whore, I’m sure.” Ericson replied, flatly.

“We need to talk.” Stanley cut in.

Kylen frowned, “Out back.” He added before turning to Leopold, “Wait here. Quell your thirst.” He told the boy, handing him a coin bag.

Ericson raised an eyebrow, “How much coin you got, heretic?”

“Out back.” Kylen snapped, already leaving.

Once outside, Ericson stretched. “Alright. What’s this about? I have shit to do tonight and you guys are really---“

Kylen pushed his heavy friend onto the ground, “Have you gone mad!?” He shouted, kicking his side while he was down. “We agreed the king and prince wouldn’t get hurt and you send an ASSASSIN? You nearly killed Tweek!”

Stanley leaned against the back of the tavern, watching.

Ericson whined like a baby as he was shoved around. When Kylen finally pulled away, the mercenary straightened back up. “Fuck you, KYEL.” He snapped, brushing himself off. “You’re lucky Stan’s here or I would have---”

Stanley raised an eyebrow, “Would have what?”

“Nothing.” Ericson grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Kylen rolled his eyes right back, “Where is he?”

“You want revolution? We need to kill the king.” The mercenary retorted. “Your soft heart will get us killed, heretic. Get over yourself, the king needs to die.”

“That’s not---“ Kylen began, but Stanley interrupted.

“Then why was Craigston targeted, Cartesian?” He asked, pushing himself off the tavern and over to the two.

Ericson shrugged, “Do I look gifted? The order was on the king.”

Kylen frowned, “Alright, fine. Where is he?”

“Beats the piss outta me. He just shows up.”

“Cartesian!”

“Ey! Don’t yell at me you dirty heretic!”

Stanley lost his patience, “We had a plan, Cartesian. You really fucked us.”

“If he killed the king, the revolution would have begun and you all would be licking my balls right now.” Ericson snapped.

“We agreed to do this without killing the royals.”

Ericson laughed with little amusement, “So naïve. You can’t have a revolution without killing royals.”

Kylen growled under his breath. He then breathed in deeply, before exhaling softly. “We need to talk to Sir Em. How can we contact him?”

Ericson shrugged again, “Some tree. You put a letter in the tree hollow. He puts a letter back. You put the coin in there then someone gets assassinated.”

Kylen sighed, “And here I thought we could handle this by tonight. Alright, I’ll write the letter. Show me the tree, Cartesian.”

Ericson rolled his eyes, “Fuck you KEYL. The tree is far…” He whined.

“You started this, you’ll see it through.” Kylen snapped, shoving passed him and back into the tavern. Stanley shot Ericson a cocky smirk before following after the scholar. Cursing could be heard from behind the two boys, but they ignored it.

 “H-hey laddies!” Leopold hiccupped.

“Oh no.” Kylen sighed and Stanley laughed.

“You drunk LeeLee?” Ericson teased.

Leopold giggled, “CerTAINLY not!”

“Yeah. He’s drunk.” Stanley deduced with little effort.

Kylen rubbed his temples, growing impatient with the night.

_“There was a maiden from stone-berry hollow,_

_She didn't talk much but boy did she swallow._

_I have a nice lance that she sat upon,_

_The maiden from stone-berry who was also CARTESIAN’S mom.”_

“Ey!” Ericson shouted as the boys laughed at his expense.

“James! You useless cripple!” He called out.

James didn’t waver, “My-my lance still works fine. Ask your, ask your--ask your mother.”

Kylen shook his head, “Well. I’m going to write the letter.” He told Stanley. “Can you make sure Leo gets home? I don’t trust Cartesian…”

“You shouldn’t.” Stanley replied, impassively.

The scholar smiled briefly, even in his annoyance, Stanley still managed to make the day bearable. Then he thought about Wendelyn and instantly felt guilty.

“Will I see you later?” The knight asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wendy mentioned you coming over for supper.”

Kylen blinked a few times, trying to keep the surprise out of his eyes and the blush off his face. Though, the action itself caused alarm.

He glanced away as he responded, “I’m uh…not sure. I guess it depends.”

“Do you want me to come with you to the tree?” Stanley offered, but Kylen waved him off.

“I’ll be fine.” He assured and that had been enough for the knight, “I’ll be back for you, Cartesian!”

“Don’t hold your breath!” Ericson shouted back.

Kylen left the tavern alone, half expecting it to rain. He would write the letter at his study and return for his fat friend after. They would walk to the tree and Kylen would decide then whether or not he would have supper with Stanley. Wendelyn would be there, of course. Normally, Kylen didn’t mind. He rather liked Wendelyn. After his near kiss with Stanley, however, just looking at her became difficult.

There was a presence in Kylen’s study even before he entered. He reached into his robes and gripped a talisman, opening the door with caution. The study was dark until someone lit a candle. Kylen almost pulled his talisman out, but he recognized the figure to be Sir Em.

“What are you doing here?” Kylen asked right away.

The coincidence of it all was unnerving.

Sir Em smirked, it had been the only visible feature, “Hello Kylen.” He said with a voice so deep it put Prince Craigston to shame, “A little birdy told me you were looking for me. Are you upset?”

Kylen frowned, “Why did you attack the prince? Cartesian ordered the hit on the king. Which, mind you, I’m calling off.”

Sir Em touched a few things on Kylen’s desk before moving to walk around him. The scholar felt perturbed. The figure circled him like a predator does his prey and spoke with unrecognized emotion.

“Cartesian wants to kill the king. You want peace among the two worlds. Stanley waits for an opportunity that never comes. Can’t you see? None of you are on the proper path.” He paused before finally saying, “The answer is Tweek.”

“Tweek?” Kylen questioned, “Wait…”

“I won’t stop.” The assassin informed, “Not until he is released.”

“Released? Who are you?” Kylen asked, eyes never leaving the wolf among him.

Sir Em stopped short, “I wouldn’t do that, Kylen.” He warned.

The scholar removed his talisman. The figure jumped back a second later as magic erupted from the item and just barely dodged the blast. Kylen winced, but his grip remained strong. Sir Em landed on Kylen’s desk, only to flip off it and land on his dresser. Kylen nearly aimed the talisman at the dresser, but held back when he remembered the precious materials inside. Sir Em smirked, removing a throwing knife and tossing it at Kylen’s hand. With the talisman dropped, the figure jumped off the dresser and over to Kylen, but Kylen rolled out of the way. The scholar hurried back onto his feet and grabbed the nearest scroll to him. Reading from it, Kylen released a wave of magic that smashed against the figure like water did a rock. Sir Em hit the wall behind him, hard. He swallowed the pain a second later and climbed back onto the dresser from its side.

Kylen dropped the scroll and picked up another. Before he could read from it, however, Sir Em threw himself onto the scholar. Kylen grunted when he was landed upon. The hooded figure grabbed him by the collar and, with his free hand, knocked the scroll out of his grasp.

“You’re getting better at that.” Sir Em complimented, surprising the scholar.

Kylen stifled a wince, “L-leave Tweek alone. He has nothing to do with this.” He managed to say, trying in vain to break free.

The assassin chuckled lightly, “Still the same Kylen.” He replied, fondly. He then smirked as he moved off him. “Have fun with Stanley.” The figure teased as he jumped backwards, tossing something against the ground.

Kylen coughed as smoke filled his study.

Leaving his study, Kylen caught his breath. He looked around, frowning deeply. Sir Em had been gone and nothing had been resolved. Cursing, Kylen left to speak with Stanley. He assumed the knight had been at Wendelyn’s and indeed found him there. Wendelyn greeted Kylen with friendly eyes as she let him in and led him to their supper table.

Stanley looked up from his food, pleasantly surprised.

“H-hey.” Kylen waved.

Stanley smiled at him, “Did you just get back? That was quick.”

Kylen rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly. “Not exactly.” He replied, eyes darting around awkwardly.

“Did something happened?” The knight asked, growing concerned.

Wendelyn looked between the two, “Kyle?”

Kylen breathed in deeply before informing the two about Sir Em. When he finished, he took a seat at their table.

“Bastard.” Stanley hissed.

“Stan.” Wendelyn warned, gently.

“Are you hurt?” The knight asked, calming down as Wendelyn placed her hand over his.

Kylen watched the two with envy, forcing his eyes away. “I’m fine.” He muttered, eating small pieces of food at a time. “Did Wendy tell you about our session today?” The scholar asked, forcing himself to make conversation. He didn’t want to be there, but he didn’t want either to be aware of his discomfort.

Stanley nodded, “The draconic? Yeah, strange…and you used your fairy dust? I thought that was the last of it.”

“It was.” Kylen replied, simply.

“You knew about the fairy dust, Stan?” Wendelyn asked, frowning some.

Stanley chuckled weakly, “I was with him when he found it. How many summers ago? Ten, maybe.”

Kylen couldn’t help but smile, though it had been weak.

“Yeah.” He replied, reminiscing in the confines of his own mind.

Wendelyn pouted, “You never told me that.”

Stanley only shrugged.

Kylen looked between the two, “I should go.” He said as he rose, “Thank you-um, Wendy, for a lovely supper.”

“Kyle?” Stanley called out, puzzled.

Kylen couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer. He needed to get out. Ignoring Stanley, he reached for the door, but the door shut suddenly. Turning around, Kylen found Wendelyn standing a few feet away, her eyes radiating from the one bewitched word spoken. She then closed her eyes and the light in them faded.

“We need to be true to ourselves.” She said, opening her eyes back up. “Kyle. There was something you wanted to tell Stan?” She questioned, though it sounded more like a demand.

Stanley had walked over. He looked between the two, “I don’t…understand.” 

“Stanley.” Wendelyn said firmly, “Was there not something you wanted to tell Kyle?” She said, hands on her hips.

Stanley looked away, blushing some. Wendelyn rolled her eyes as he took the knight’s hand and then walked over and took Kylen’s. Kylen blushed as he and Stanley were brought into the bedroom and ushered onto the bed. Wendelyn sat in between the two. She leaned to her right and kissed Stanley. He was surprised at first, but kissed her back. His eyes opened midway to see Kylen watching them. The scholar’s expression fell and Stanley pulled away from his fiancée. Wendelyn didn’t seem insulted nor surprised. She turned to Kylen instead and yanked him into a kiss.

“W-wendy!” Stanley snapped, unsure of who he had been angry with.

Wendelyn pulled away, smiling at Kylen’s shock. She then turned to Stanley and pushed him gently toward Kylen. The scholar flinched as the knight’s stunned eyes fell into that of desire.

“S-stan?” He whispered, leaning in absentmindedly.

Their lips touched and it was soft and gently. Then, the knight grabbed the back of Kylen’s head and yanked it back, forcing his mouth open with a gasp. Kylen’s eyes shut tightly as Stanley’s tongue slipped inside. Stanley released all his pent up emotion into that one passionate kiss and Kylen felt it. His body grew hot as he grabbed his friend’s face. Stanley groaned into Kyle’s mouth while the scholar teased his tongue with his own. Wendelyn bit her lower lip as she watched them, still sitting between the two. Her hands rested on each of their thighs. Kylen felt her caressing his thigh and then felt her dip her hand into his pants, he assumed she had done the same to Stanley.

Kylen moaned into Stanley’s mouth and he knew the trio’s friendship had been over in the best of ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only other POV chapter that isn't Tweek or Craig, I swear.  
> Hope you all enjoyed Kylen's perspective! As well as, the light smutt.  
> I took out about four pages of 'that' scene...maybe I'll make it a ONESHOT.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your continuing support.  
> Kitty-


	8. The castle of Stars

The castle fell into a calm routine as the days went by. Soon, everyone stopped whispering Bartles’ name in the halls. Tweek preferred never to hear the man’s name again, but the idea of an assassin still being at large gnawed at the back of his mind.

The prince seemed more annoyed about the matter than worried. “It wasn’t Bartles.” Craigston said, his father growing irritated.

“How many times must you bring this up?” The king asked, shaking his head. “Every supper? Your birthday is coming up and this is all you can talk about?”

_Birthday?_ Tweek thought, glancing toward the prince.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “Your priorities never case to amaze me, father.”

“Thank you, son.” The king replied, misreading his son entirely.

After supper, Tweek thought about Craigston and his upcoming birthday. He didn’t have much coin to his name, therefore he couldn’t buy the prince a gift. Making something came to mind, but Tweek wasn’t a craftsman.

“Tweek? Did you hear me?” He heard the prince say.

Tweek swallowed a spasm, “Y-yes!”

Craigston stopped walking to look him over, “What did I say then?” He challenged, nonchalantly.

“A-a…you asked me i-if…” Tweek trailed off, eyes darting around.

“If you wanted to join my hunting trip.” He informed, walking over to his guards, “These guys always take me on my birthday.” Craigston then said, causing both guards to smile.

“It’s a lot of fun! You should come, Tweek.” Clydesdale grinned.

Tolkien nodded, “You’re always welcomed.”

Tweek swallowed hard as he looked between the three. Then, an idea came to mind. With the prince out, Tweek could surprise him in his chambers.

“N-no thank you g-guys. I’m not…very good with blood.” He confessed, not exactly lying. He then smiled, “But I hope you have fun. When um…is it?” He then asked, coyly.

Craigston revealed his disappointment with a frown, if only for a second. He then shrugged as he waved Clydesdale out of the way, “Tomorrow.” He stated, plainly.

“T-tomorrow?!” Tweek flinched, chewing on his lip nervously. He wasn’t sure if that had been enough time. Perhaps, Kylen or Wendelyn could aid him. He did have a session that day, he could use the time to prepare for Craigston’s birthday.

The prince waited for Tweek to follow, sticking his middle finger at Clydesdale, who had been snickering for some reason. “You don’t have to worry about it. I hate my birthday.” Craigston told Tweek honestly.

Tweek’s cheeks puffed up as he silently vowed to make it the best birthday ever.

Later that day, Tweek was dropped off at Kylen’s study. Craigston raised a brow when Stanley walked out. The knight had somewhat of a glazed look in his eyes as he bowed. Tweek waved shyly before saying goodbye to his prince. Craigston smiled briefly and that made Tweek smile. He couldn’t help it. Walking into Kylen’s study, the servant noticed both Kylen and Wendelyn fixing their hair. He tilted his head to the side, but said nothing of it.

“H-hi you guys.” He squeaked.

The two smiled and greeted him in near unison, laughing as they did. Tweek chuckled nervously while they laughed, unsure of what had been so funny. He then looked around the room before breathing in deeply.

“CANYOUHELPMEWITHCRAIGSPRESENT?”

Kylen blinked a few times as Wendelyn giggled into her hands.

Tweek caught his breath, rubbing his chest. “S-sorry.” He muttered, sighing out some. He had been far too nervous. He felt it. There was a tingle in his chest that danced around like no one was watching. It tickled, but it also hurt.

“Of course we’ll help you.” Wendelyn replied, sweetly.

Kylen smiled, “Did you have something in mind?”

Tweek’s chest felt like a feather as he clenched his hands in front of his body excitedly, “A-a few!” He told them, “I-I’ll need help. Do you know how to make paint? A-and how to bind free pages into a book? Oh! And can Stanley guard the prince’s chambers while he’s hunting? A-and I’ll need some baking time…”

Kylen and Wendelyn spoke for a moment with their eyes. They nodded after another moment and turned back to Tweek.

“I can help you make paint.” Wendelyn offered.

“And I can help with the book.” Kylen supplied, “I’m sure Stan won’t mind aiding you.” He added softly, “We’ll ask him.”

Tweek felt his next smile brighten, he had hope that Craigston would have a good birthday. “T-thanks you guys…”

The next day came with little mercy. Tweek groaned, his mind sore from all the planning. His arms felt weak as he lifted them to block his eyes. He wasn’t prepared for the day ahead, but he needed to be. Then, he heard giggling. It was faint, but it was definitely in his chambers. Tweek flinched up, pulling his blanket in front of him like a child.

“I-is someone there?” He asked, hesitantly.

More giggling.

Tweek’s body twitched violently as the giggling grew closer. His room was small enough, yet he couldn’t see where the person had been. A girl, he figured from the sound. She must have been young, due to her tiny tone.

_“Aren’t you cute.”_ The giggling mused.

“Gah!” Tweek cried, falling out of bed. “What the shit!?” He shouted, looking every which way and finding nothing.

His door flew open a second later, “Tweek?”

Tweek held his blanket close to his chest. Both Clydesdale and Tolkien had been in his door way. His eyes widened as a little girl appeared in front of them. Neither guard reacted to her, however. She wore an intricate turquoise dress with red ribbons in her strawberry blonde hair. The girl raised her middle finger at the guards before turning around to face Tweek. She then winked and he cried out again as her body faded into nothingness.

Craigston rushed inside the room, shoving passed his guards. He bent down to Tweek, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him lightly. “Tweek.” He called, firmly. “Tweek. Are you alright?” He asked, growing concerned.

Tweek stared a moment longer before looking up and at the prince. Their eyes met and he started to calm down. “I-I saw…” He tried to say, trembling as he did.

Craigston’s eyes never left him. Even as Tweek glanced away, he could still feel the prince’s intense gaze. The grip on his shoulders was both gentle and firm, a feat only Craigston could achieve. Tweek winced, hating himself for ruining the prince’s birthday.

“J-just a nightmare.” He finally said, lying through his teeth.

Craigston’s grip loosened some, “Are you sure?”

Tweek only nodded.

The prince let out a sigh of relief as he helped Tweek back onto his feet. He then turned to his guards and nodded his head at them, “Thanks guys. He’s fine.” He assured, still holding Tweek’s hand.

Tweek blushed brightly, trying his best not to stare at their hands.

“Oh good!” Clydesdale replied, smiling his relief.

Tolkien smiled as well, “We’re here if you need us.” He offered softly, nudging Clydesdale to leave with him.

When the door shut, Craigston turned back to Tweek.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look like you just saw a ghost…” He joked, without the tone.

Tweek chuckled at the irony. He then forced a smile, “I-I’m fine, Craig. Really.” He tried to assure, but the prince looked skeptical. “S-sorry for ruining your birthday so early in the morning…” He added, weakly.

Craigston gave his hand a good squeeze, forcing the blond to look up on reflex.

“It’s just a day. Like any other. Besides…you didn’t ruin anything.”

Tweek looked down at their hands, “G-good. I’m glad.”

Craigston glanced down at their hands and looked away from Tweek. He cleared his throat, releasing their hands. “I don’t have to hunt today.” He then said, surprising the blond.

“N-no! Craig, d-don’t. Don’t do that. You hunt every year. Y-you should. I’m fine, I swear.” Tweek stumbled to articulate.

“You’re sure?” The prince asked, looking him over.

“I-I am.” Tweek replied, only to smile. “I want you to have fun!” Of course in order for his plan to work, Tweek needed Craigston away.

“Alright.” Craigston replied, still uncertain. “I won’t be gone long.” He added.

Tweek’s fingertips twirled around one another as he watched the prince, “I-I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you return.” He told him, shyly. Craigston only nodded his head, leaving Tweek’s chambers.

Stanley walked down the hall, raising his eyebrow. “Running late?” He asked Craigston and his guards.

“Keep an eye on Tweek.” The prince told the knight, flatly.

Stanley shrugged, “As you wish.”

Clydesdale eyed Stanley, “You hate guard duty.”

“And you hate exercise. Yet, there you go. About to move around and hunt. Good for you.” The knight replied, smoothly.

“W-what did you say?” Clydesdale snapped.

“Leave him be.” Tolkien said, his tone indicating Stanley hadn’t been worth it.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “Let’s go guys.”

“Have a good birthday.” Stanley called out, smirking when Tweek poked his head out.

“H-he gone?” The blond asked, nervously.

Stanley nodded when the coast was clear.

Tweek half smiled, “G-great. Thank you um-Stanley. For helping.”

“I just skipped training. Not a problem.”

Stanley smiled, noticing two figures making their way down the hall. Kylen and Wendelyn waved at the two as they approached.

“Ready when you are, Tweek.” Kylen said, flashing Stanley a smile.

Wendelyn winked, “I got the paint.”

Tweek’s cheeks puffed up, “C-clyde and Tolkien said they would stall the hunt. S-so we have a few hours.” He then smiled brightly, “Let’s get started.”

Tweek had little time to bathe after everything was in place. He thanked Kylen and Wendelyn again before preparing himself a bath. Stanley continued to guard Craigston’s chambers, watching the servants and other guards carefully as they passed.

_With Sir Em still lurking around, the castle could never be too safe,_ the knight thought to himself.

The bath was hardly warm, but Tweek hardly had the time to complain. He didn’t mind the cold, after all. It did, however, make bathing more difficult. Singing softly, the water rose on its own and began washing paint off the blond. Tweek swayed slightly to his own melody, enjoying the gentle scrub against his skin.

_“I like your gift. I think Craig will love it too.”_

“G-gah! J-jesus Christ!” He shouted as the water spiked and froze over. Tweek winced, shattering the ice a second later. He dipped low to hide his naked form, peeking over the edge of the bath just slightly.

The girl showed him her middle finger, _“Calm down.”_

“W-who…what are…calm down!?” He stammered, only to snap.

“Tweek.” He heard Stanley calling as he knocked.

“I-I’m fine!” He lied, glaring at the transparent girl.

The girl giggled, moving her middle finger to Tweek’s door.

“Alright.” Stanley replied, moving away from the door.

_“You’re such a liar.”_

“A-and you’re a creep. Get…get out of my room.”

_“I don’t think I will.”_ She mused, swaying as she did.

Tweek grimaced, “A-at least turn away. I’m getting out.”

The girl shrugged and turned away from him, disappearing as she did. Tweek shoved his fear down in order to hurry out of the bath. He heard giggling as he covered himself in a blanket.

“W-what do you want? Ghosts are real…oh gods.”

The girl reappeared, sitting on his bed. Her small legs dangled as she kicked them to and fro, _“You’re funny. No wonder my brother likes you.”_

Tweek gripped the blanket in disbelief, “B-brother? Are you…”

_“His dead sister.”_ She replied, courtly.

Tweek’s grip tightened. He always wondered where Craigston’s mother had been, but he assumed she was dead and was afraid to bring it up. He never thought Craigston might have had siblings. The girl looked at him curiously. Her hair reminded him of the king, but her eyes were clearly Craigston’s; which they must have shared from their mother.

_“I show up every year on his birthday. But he never sees me. Sometimes…I think he hears me. But I don’t know…”_

“What’s nngh your name?” Tweek asked, quietly.

_“Urtica.”_

Tweek smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, princess.”

Urtica scoffed, _“I hate being a princess!”_ She huffed, _“I wanted to be an archer, but papa always said that ladies don’t need to fight. That’s what the men are for.”_

Tweek made a face. He thought about Wendelyn and how she was female. Wendelyn was quite powerful and more than capable of taking care of herself. He then moved and sat beside the girl, “That’s dumb. If you want to be an archer, be an archer.”

Urtica laughed, _“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?”_ She joked, grimly.

Tweek flinched, “R-right. Sorry…”

_“It’s alright. You know…the year before I died? It was Craig’s birthday and he asked for one thing. Do you know what?”_

Tweek could only shake his head ‘no’.

_“For me to practice archery with him.”_

Tweek’s eyes softened at the thought. Craigston tried to appear apathetic and, for the most part, he was. Though, Tweek knew he was sensitive deep down.

“Did you have fun?” He asked, softly.

_“It was so much fun!”_

The two smiled at each other before Urtica spoke again.

“ _Can you…can you do me a favor, Tweek?”_

Tweek almost held his breath, “A-anything.” He managed to reply.

Stanley removed himself from his post when the guards returned. All three boys were dirty, but laughing. Chuckling for the prince, but still. Tweek smiled at the sight. He bowed at them when they stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“How was your trip?” Tweek asked, trying to hide his own nerves and excitement.

“The castle shall eat for many moons.” Clydesdale proclaimed, proudly.

Tolkien chuckled, “We even caught some frogs. Like when we were kids.” He noted, fondly.

Craigston shook his head, “We sucked at it then as we still do.”

Tweek smiled brightly, “I-I’m glad you had fun!”

The prince shot Tweek a small smile before moving toward his chambers, “I need to bathe.” He grumbled.

“W-wait!” Tweek protested, moving in front of him.

“Tweek?” Craigston questioned, raising his brow slightly.

Tolkien smirked as Clydesdale snickered, knowingly.

Craigston squinted his eyes, “Wait a minute…”

“C-close your eyes!” Tweek huffed, hands balled into small determined fists. He kept his eyes on the prince who looked around accusingly.

The prince sighed, but smiled faintly as he did.

“Alright.” Craigston caved, closing his eyes.

Tweek took his hand and Clydesdale opened the door for them. Slowly, Tweek led Craigston into his chambers. Once at its center, he stopped and breathed in deeply.

“Okay.” The blonde said, letting go of the prince’s hand. “You can open now.”

Craigston opened his eyes, looking around the room right away. First, he spotted the table that held a book and a bake mete. The prince moved over to the table and picked the book up, “Is this for me?” He asked, already turning the cover. He was surprised to see all his maps bound together. His eyes then widened as he glanced away from the book to look at his walls.

Painted, quite beautifully, was the night’s sky. The stars had been identical to the ones Craigston himself charted. Tweek rubbed his arms nervously as the prince walked around his room with book in hand. He observed every last detail and compared it to the book he was holding.

“…amazing.” He breathed.

Tweek smiled as he watched Craigston. It made his heart flutter to see the prince awestruck by something he had made, “H-happy birthday, Craig.”

Craigston closed the book and set it down on his bed. He turned around to face Tweek and stepped closer to him. Tweek bit his lower lip, face heating up as Craigston drew near. The prince placed his hands on Tweek’s shoulders. His eyes were hypnotizing, Tweek couldn’t look away. He wanted to speak, wanted to ask if Craigston enjoyed his gift. No sound came out, however. Instead, Tweek shuddered a breath as the prince rested his forehead upon his own.

“Thank you, Tweek.”

Tweek half expected himself to twitch, to push the prince away by nerves alone. Though, he did no such thing. His involuntary spasms, which ached for release on a daily basis, were soothed. For the first time in his life, Tweek felt at ease. Pure contentment. He stared into Craigston’s eyes and the prince stared back. The two closed their eyes in near unison. Neither moved, simply soaked up each other’s energy.

_“Now kisssss~”_

Tweek flinched, “A-ah!”

“Tweek?”

Tweek blushed horribly as he hid his face in Craigston’s chest. The prince smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms around the twitchy blond, petting his hair gently. Tweek’s body tingled as the prince played in his hair. All he wanted was to stay in that moment forever, but Urtica had been there.

“T-there’s something else.” Tweek piped.

“More?” Craigston asked, pulling away slightly to look at him.

Tweek nodded, meekly.

“Did you bathe today? I just made you dirty again, didn’t I?” Craigston noticed, shaking his head. “Sorry about that.” He then pulled away completely to glance around the room again.

“This really is amazing, Tweek.”

Tweek rubbed his chest, missing the prince’s warm embrace.

“I-I’m glad you like it.” He replied, softly.

“I love it.” Craigston corrected.

_“And I love you.”_ Urtica whispered, _“Tell him.”_ She urged.

Tweek clenched down on his chest. He saw Urtica in the room, smiling smugly. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, yearning for a coffee bean. His eyes looked down and stared blankly at his own feet.

“D-do you want to try the u-um bake mete?”

The prince looked back to the table and nodded as he followed Tweek to sit down, “Did you make this too?” He asked, impressed.

Tweek couldn’t help but smile, “I-I did.”

Craigston shook his head, “How can you be so hard on yourself? You’re amazing.” He stated, as a matter-of-factly.

Urtica giggled when Tweek’s hand slipped while cutting the pastry. Luckily, he didn’t cut himself or the prince.

“Careful.” He heard the prince scold.

Just then, Stripe came prancing in. He sat at Craigston’s side and looked up, patiently waiting for a slice. Craigston noticed the ribbon tied into a bow around Stripe’s neck and chuckled, “Did you do this?”

“O-oh, yeah. Should I not have? F-forgive me! I didn’t--“

“It’s cute.” Craigston said, cutting him off to pull the large rodent into his lap. “Look at you, Stripe. Do you like your new ribbon?” He asked, his voice almost motherly.

Tweek inwardly swooned at the display.

Urtica rolled her eyes, _“Homo much?”_

Tweek moved away from the table to cough.

Craigston glanced up, “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine!” He managed to say, glaring at Urtica.

Stripe looked over and just stared. Tweek noticed, wondering if the cavy could see the ghost girl. Urtica stuck up her middle finger and it was hard to decipher who she had been flipping off. Either way, Stripe snorted and curled into Craigston.

Tweek gave Craigston two plates, one for him and one for Stripe. He then placed a third on the edge of the table before sitting down with his own. Craigston counted the plates in his head and raised a brow.

“Tweek. You set an extra plate.” He pointed out.

Tweek blushed, “O-oh. I guess I did.” He replied, glancing toward Urtica.

Urtica perked up as she left her spot to sit at the table with them. She stared down and at the plate before looking up at Tweek, her eyes big and filled with appreciation. Tweek smiled at the princess, glancing away when Craigston spoke again.

“Never been big on sweets, but this is quite good.”

Tweek grabbed the table’s edge, “R-really? I-I can make a mince pie next year!” He offered, nervously. “I-if I’m still here.” He added, without thinking.

Craigston nodded, “That sounds nice.” His tone shifted, “What do you mean? Of course you will be.”

“I-I just…I don’t know.” Tweek twitched, dragging his nails against the table as he did. “The king doesn’t like me a-and I’m just a servant. W-who knows what the future holds, r-right?”

Craigston snorted, causing Stripe to mimic the act, “Well I do. As long as I’m around, you will be too. Alright?”

Tweek blushed brightly, “A-alright, Craig.” He replied, quietly.

Urtica smirked as she looked between the two, _“You two are so homo.”_

“N-nngh!” Tweek twitched, “W-we are not.” He grumbled, his voice squeaking.

“We aren’t what?” Craigston asked, puzzled.

“N-nothing!” Tweek flinched up, “I-I’ll prepare your bath.”

While Craigston had his bath, Tweek cleaned up. Urtica and Stripe kept the blond company as he moved about. He spoke with them lowly, not wanting to concern the prince with talking to himself. It was easier with Stripe there. Craigston spoke with the cavy often enough to assume Tweek had done the same.

_“You should tell him.”_

“I-it’s more complicated than that…he’s a prince a-and we’re both boys…” Tweek winced at the thought of Craigston getting in trouble because of him. Being stripped of his titled, or worse: hanged.

_“Not that. Well, yeah that. But I was talking about your powers.”_

“I-I can’t.” Tweek replied, looking around frantically.

_“Yes you can. You’re just being a pussy about it.”_

“H-hey! Language.”

Urtica rolled her eyes, _“Craig would understand. He’s an ass, but he’s a loving ass.”_

Tweek’s face scrunched up as he took Urtica’s words in. Then, his mind wandered to the prince’s asset, “G-gah! Why?” He whined, covering his face.

Urtica raised an eyebrow, _“You’re a weird one.”_ She then smiled, _“But I like you.”_

“Tweek?” He heard Craigston call out.

Tweek blushed, hurrying to find the prince new clothes to wear. “S-sorry.” He stammered, handing the clothes over while trying in vain not to peek at his wet body.

“ _Ewwwww!”_ Urtica cried, shimmering away.

 “What was this other thing you spoke of?” He asked, moving to get changed.

Tweek had to stifle a laugh, “Y-you’ll see.”

The two left the room a moment later. They spoke with Clydesdale and Tolkien in the hallway briefly, then Tweek led the way. Craigston walked with his hands behind his back, nodding as he was greeted and wished a ‘happy birthday’. His face was like stone as they walked through the castle. The prince didn’t exactly like surprises, but he trusted Tweek and simply enjoyed being around the twitchy blond. Especially, on his birthday. Craigston frowned when he realized he wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else. His father’s words came to mind, about arranged marriages. The prince didn’t want to get married. At least, he assumed he didn’t want to. Staring at Tweek’s back, he pictured a simpler life.

Tweek stopped walking, “We’re h-here.”

“Hm?” Craigston looked up, emerging from his daze.

Taking his hand, Tweek tugged the prince inside.

Craigston looked around the room. He saw all the targets and cocked his brow, “What are we doing in the guards’ training grounds?” He asked, surprised to see Tweek pick up a bow and quiver.

“Archery?” The prince questioned, “I didn’t know you liked archery…”

Tweek handed Craigston a bow and quiver.

“I have no idea if I do.” He replied, earnestly.

“Then why are we…?”

Urtica stood beside Tweek and raised her transparent bow, _“Like me.”_

Tweek moved with the girl.

_“Breathe in.”_ She ordered.

The two focused on the target ahead, _“Breathe out.”_ She commanded as they fired at the same time.

Craigston watched in awe as Tweek hit the target dead on. He then looked down at his own bow before raising it. His hands shook. _How many years has it been?_ He asked himself. Shutting his eyes tight, the prince thought about his sister.

Tweek lowered his bow, “C-craig?”

Opening his eyes, Craigston raised his bow. His eyes narrowed as he pulled back and fire a second later, remembering to focus on his breathing. The arrow struck Tweek’s, splitting it down the center.

“W-woah.” Tweek blurted, looking between the target and the prince. He then smiled when he saw Urtica standing beside said target. She raised her middle finger and smiled warmly.

Tweek smiled back, raising his own middle finger to show the incorporeal girl.

Craigston gaped, surprised to see Tweek mimic his gesture. Then, he felt something; something familiar. His eyes followed Tweek’s and dropped his bow. Urtica froze as their eyes met. Craigston’s shocked expression fell as he, too, raised his middle finger. Urtica’s eyes filled with tears. She laughed wholeheartedly, aiming a hand at each of them, her middle fingers stood strong and proud. Her translucent body started to glow as she disappeared again, but Tweek felt it had been for the last time.

Tweek breathed out deeply, happy that Urtica could finally rest in peace. Through his peripheral, however, he could tell Craigston had been shaking.

“C-craig?” Tweek set his own bow down to move over to the prince. He didn’t anticipate Craigston seeing his sister.

Craigston held his face, “Urtica?” He said through the cracks of his fingers. “You show her this whole time, didn’t you?” He asked, lowering his hand to look at Tweek.

Tweek felt guilt twist stomach, “I-I…”

“It wasn’t a nightmare. It was her.” He pressed.

“Y-yes. I…I’m sorry, Craig. I-I should have told you. I just…wanted you to have a good birthday. She visits you every birthday, but y-you can’t see her. I-I know it’s wrong but…but I’m glad you finally saw her and that she could move on!”

Tweek couldn’t look at the distraught prince. All he wanted was for Craigston to have a good birthday. The servant was foolish to think he could supply the prince with just that. His eyelids lowered as he looked down in shame.

“Thank you.” He heard Craigston say.

Tweek’s eyes shot up, “Y-you’re not? Angry with me?”

Craigston sat down, gesturing for Tweek to do the same. Tweek swallowed hard, but didn’t object. He moved to sit beside the prince, eyes darting around before finding the pair of deep blue pools he had come to love.

“Father never talks about them.” He then said, pain hanging on every word.

Tweek didn’t speak, only listened.

“It was…difficult when they died.” Craigston went on to say, “Not talking about them doesn’t help. They’re dead. I know that. Yet…when people die their memory lives on in you, right? If you don’t talk about them, then it keeps them dead. They don’t live on anywhere. It’s almost like they---…”

“Never existed.” Tweek finished, looking down.

The prince frowned, “Yeah…”

There was a long quiet between the two. Craigston was hunched over slightly, his arms held in his lap. Slowly, his body relaxed and he put his arms out to either side of him.

Tweek had been staring at nothing and everything all at once. He pictured Craigston with his sister and the two practicing archery. He wondered if the prince had been happier back then or if he had always been cynical.

“How…h-how did they die?” The servant asked, wistfully.

Craigston closed his eyes, as if going back in time. “The Black Death.” He confirmed. “I stayed with them. Tried helping the doctor as much as I could. Father said I would catch my death, I didn’t care. I think a part of me wanted to.”

Tweek frowned, hating the idea of Craigston feeling suicidal in any way. Though, he felt like a hypocrite in the same vein. The spaz of a blond never thought about taking his own life, per se, but he did think about disappearing. He thought about dying all the time. Not painfully, of course, but it just happening; like the flame in a candle being blown out.

“Father believed the plague was magic based. Magic had always been forbidden in our kingdom. If caught, you were banished. After they died, he outlawed it completely. Made it punishable by death.”

Tweek reached for his collar, “T-the plague is…it’s not magic.”

“I know.” Cragiston replied, lowly. “Perhaps if magic were allowed, they could have been saved.” He added, clenching his fists, though his eyes remained distant.

Tweek thought about telling the prince about his magic. His grip on the collar around his neck tightened as the fear of how Craigston would respond set in. Ice appeared over the tips of Tweek’s fingers and trickled down over the metal in his grasp. He breathed out a cold breath and quickly tore his hands away. Catching his breath, Tweek then thought about the prince’s words. About his mother and his sister.

_They could live on_ , he thought.

“W-what was your mother like?” Tweek asked, holding his chest.

Craigston looked to Tweek, “My mother?” He asked, thinking some. He then smiled lightly as he looked forward. “She was beautiful.” He replied, simply. “Blonde. Like you.” He nearly teased, as if to call Tweek beautiful.

Tweek blushed at the thought, but threw it away as quickly as it came.

The prince continued to talk about his mother. Tweek found himself listening intently. He leaned back some, letting his elbows keep him up. At one point, Craigston placed his hand over Tweek’s. He told him about how his mother had been the only person to put the king in his place. Urtica came back into conversation and Tweek just loved hearing about the snarky little girl.

Craigston didn’t want to go to his royal birthday dinner. He didn’t want to talk to other nobles or have princesses thrown at him. All he wanted to do, was continue to hold Tweek’s hand and talk to him for hours. Their fingers intertwined at some point, Craigston hadn’t known when. All he knew was that it felt right. Watching the blond laugh at one of his stories he knew, he knew that he loved him.

Tweek had his first night of supper without Craigston. Clydesdale and Tolkien tried to make the night enjoyable and Tweek was grateful that they had even been there. A part of him knew the guards were his friends, but another part argued they only cared around Craigston. Tweek juggled the conflicting battle in his head, heedless of both boys noticing his silence.

“Craig should be finished soon.” Tolkien offered, snapping Tweek back to reality.

“Yeah!” Clydesdale grinned, stretching. “You want to wait for him in his room?”

Tweek looked down to hide his blush, “S-sorry you guys. I probably wasn’t very fun tonight.” He replied instead, standing.

“That’s alright, Tweek.”

“Trust us. He missed us just as much as we missed him.” Clydesdale added.

Tweek smiled at the thought, “M-maybe.”

The three then left Tweek’s chambers. Putting their hands to their chest, they each bowed with mocking faces. Tweek chuckled lightly as the two laughed. The voice in the back of his head; that told him the guards weren’t his friends, was silenced. At least for the night. Tweek smiled to himself as he entered Craigston’s chambers. He barely had time to feed Stripe when the prince came stumbling inside.

“Tweek.” Tolkien called.

Tweek hurried over just as Craigston slipped. The servant winced, catching the prince’s arm over his shoulder, “W-what happened?” He asked, frowning some.

“He’s drunk.” Tolkien informed with a look of disapproval.

Clydesdale laughed when Craigston showed them his index finger rather than his middle. He then scoffed at his own hand as he fixed which remained up and which stayed down.

“I-I’ll take it from here. T-thanks, guys.”

Tweek wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do. First, he had to get the prince into bed. Then, perhaps get him some water.

“I’m not drunk.” Craigston grumbled.

Tweek frowned, “Was the party all that bad?”

“The worst.” He groaned.

Tweek wanted to be mad, but the prince had sounded far too cute. Helping Craigston over to his bed, Tweek tried to keep his face stern. He set the drunken prince down gently, removing the blankets with his free hand.

“C-come on, Craig. In bed.”

“I like when you order me around…”

“W-what?” Tweek questioned, laughing nervously. “I-In you go.” He told him, helping him to lay down before placing the wool over him. “Just rest. I’ll get you some water.”

Tweek sighed as he got up. The day had been emotionally draining to say the least. Then, Craigston grabbed him from behind and pulled him into his bed. Tweek’s body tensed, unable to squirm or remain perfectly still all at once. His eyes were wide while he laid in the prince’s grasp. His voice hitched in his throat as he failed at speaking. Craigston’s breath was hot upon Tweek’s ear. His hands slipped under Tweek’s tunic and explored the soft skin underneath.

“C-c-craig?” The blond finally managed.

Craigston’s face nuzzled into the crook of Tweek’s neck, “I missed you.” He confessed, his voice raspy.

Tweek’s mind became fuzzy and he wasn’t entirely sure he was still awake. He started to pant as the prince moved his collar up to plant kisses along his neck. Craigston’s lips were soft against his skin. Each touch helped to build a fire inside Tweek’s chest. He could feel his blood ignite in his veins as the prince started to suck upon his neck.

“C-craig.” Tweek went to protest, but moaned out instead.


	9. Death has a Shadow

“C-craig.” Tweek went to protest, but moaned out instead.

Craigston bit Tweek’s neck when he heard his name spoken in such a way. It was a strange sensation for the blond. His skin rippled like water, his breathing laboured. He moaned again, this time, louder. Craigston ran the flats of his palms over Tweek’s chest, causing the boy to tremble under his touch. With one hand, he moved to pinch his servant’s left nipple. Tweek shuddered when Craigston’s other hand trailed down his stomach.

“S-sire, please!” Tweek groaned, moving his arms in between his thighs as all the blood rushed to his crotch. He felt completely at the prince’s mercy and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

The prince pulled away to look his work over. The mark on Tweek’s neck was red and soon it would darken, “Are you afraid?” He asked, his raspy voice pulling at strings Tweek didn’t even know he had.

“Y-yes.” Tweek whispered, “I-I don’t…”

“You won’t hurt me.” Craigston countered.

Tweek grabbed at his collar and twitched roughly, “Y-you don’t understand I---,” He began, but bit his lip to stop himself.

“Have magic?”

The air that was once so hot around Tweek, fell cold drastically. His wide eyes shot to the side and at Craigston. The prince removed his hands, his face expressionless as he watched Tweek closely.

“H-how?” Tweek moved to get up, but Craigston grabbed his arm.

“Tweek.”

Tweek shook more violently, “No. You can’t know! C-craig…please,” His eyes watered and he fell back onto the bed, turning to hide his face in the prince’s chest.

Craigston immediately held him close, “Hey…it’s alright.” He whispered, sobering up some. “Did you honestly think I would care? See you any differently? Tweek. You should know me by now.”

“C-craig. What if I hurt you? W-what if I…I forget you like I did my p-parents? Why did I have to meet you? I was always afraid but…but not like this!” Tweek whimpered as he clung to the prince, so desperately the raven haired boy thought he might break.

“Tweek.”

Tweek started to cry, he couldn’t help it. Outside, it began to rain. Stripe hurried off the balcony and eyed the two before finding a spot under the table. Craigston watched the rain for a moment, rubbing Tweek’s back as he did. He let out a soft sigh, resting his chin on top of the distressed blond’s messy hair.

“You won’t hurt me. And if you do? You can just heal me. And if you forget me? I’ll help you remember.”

Tweek sniffled, “H-how?”

Craigston shrugged as he pulled the blond into his lap, “I’m sure I would think of something.” He replied, closing his eyes.

The rain fell gently against the railing of the balcony. As Tweek’s breathing calmed and his tears ceased, the rain shifted into a light drizzle before stopping completely. Craigston watched, fascinated, and still a little drunk. He rubbed tiny circles on Tweek’s back and, when the boy fell asleep, he moved down to lay with him. The prince was at his side, watching Tweek’s peaceful face. His eyelids lowered as he brushed the boy’s lip with his thumb. He noticed the hickey a moment later and cursed at his drunk self for being so reckless. Though, a part of him liked it. He wanted everyone to know that Tweek was his. It was selfish and dangerous but, luckily, Tweek’s collar hid the mark well enough.

Craigston looked the collar over more and frowned, “Don’t you dare make Tweek forget me.” He ordered the rare metal, feeling foolish after the fact.

In the morning, Tweek awoke to the sound of Craigston’s soft breathing. His heart raced when he realized his face had been resting against the prince’s chest. He went to move, but found Craigston’s arms holding him in place. Tweek didn’t want to wake the sleeping prince, but he also needed to go somewhere private to freak out.

Craigston knew Tweek had magic, the thought alone made him quake with unbridled fear. His mind altered between his magic and the mark the prince left upon his neck. Tweek felt his face heat up and his fingertips spark.

“Tweek?” Craigston groaned as he awoke. “My head is killing me.” He grumbled, opening his eyes to find Tweek averting his eyes.

“Y-you drank a lot last night. How are you NNGH feeling?”

Craigston grunted as he sat up and Tweek sat up with him.

“D-do you um remember a-anything?” Tweek reluctantly asked, fearful of his response.

The prince rubbed his temples briefly. He then raised an eyebrow as he looked Tweek over, “It’s gone.” Craigston said, leaning over some.

Tweek held his breath as the prince moved his collar up and examined his neck. The hickey, in fact, was gone. Blinking back to reality, Tweek exhaled. “I-it must have healed over. M-my body um…heals fast.”

Craigston set the collar back down to pull Tweek’s sleeve up. He nearly flinched, but swallowed his nerves for Craigston to study that which wasn’t there. The wound in his shoulder healed long ago, but the prince had only noticed then.

“Would you have healed yourself of the poison? If we…didn’t step in.”

“M-maybe.” Tweek squeaked, still unsure.

“How interesting.” He heard the prince say under his breath.

Tweek flinched, “N-no! I’m not interesting, Craig. I-I’m dangerous! How can you be so…so calm about this? If the king finds out he’ll---“

“I won’t let him.”

Tweek winced, his pain internal. The prince confused both his heart and his mind. He made him feel things no else ever could and it terrified Tweek to his core. Nervously, he played with his fingers.

Craigston watched the twirl of his fingers and had the sudden urge to gag. Instead, he breathed in deeply and took Tweek’s hand into his own.

“Can I join you in your sessions? I want to learn more.”

“C-craig.”

“I want to help anyway I can.” He went on to say, making Tweek’s heart flutter.

Tweek smiled, looking down at their hands. “Oh, Craig…” He breathed, squeezing the prince’s hand for support.

Craigston smiled back, if only for a moment. His eyes shut as he rested his forehead on Tweek’s. “After I throw up.” He added with little to no shame.

“E-ew!” Tweek laughed playfully, pushing the prince away.

The morning carried on like any other. Though, Craigston ate less and drank more water during breakfast. After, the two left for Tweek’s session with Kylen. Clydesdale and Tolkien greeted them as they went, both smirking. Craigston rolled his eyes to hide the faint blush, flashing the guards his middle finger.

As they walked through the court yard, Tweek’s nerves finally caught up with him, “I-I hope Kylen doesn’t mind you joining us.” He twitched.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “He’ll get over it.” The prince assured, in no way caring if his presence disturbed the scholar or not.

Tweek shook his head lightly, trying to enjoy the moment. In his head, however, he thought about the session. Craigston seemed interested, but he wondered if he would stay that way. The thought of the prince pretending to care crossed his mind. He could be acting to lead Tweek into a trap. His chest clenched at the thought, as if someone had plunged a knife deep into his heart. Glancing over and at the raven haired prince, Tweek felt worse. Not because he believed it, but because he even thought such a horrid thing.

Tweek stopped dead in his tracks when a whistle ripped through the air of the court yard.

Craigston looked to the shaken blond before following the voice, “You.” He growled, moving in front of Tweek protectively. Sir Em had been perched on top a statue, smirking.

He waved at the two and he rose, “Hello again, your highness.”

Tweek’s body twitched, “S-stay away from the prince!”

“Tweek.” The assassin greeted.

Craigston’s eyes narrowed, “Keep his name out of your mouth, honorless swine.” His voice raised slightly and filled with contempt.

The assassin pulled out a dagger, “Remember this?” He asked, before tossing it.

Tweek felt his chest pulsate, but was grabbed before he could react. Craigston threw himself and the blond onto the ground below. The dagger struck an empty space, liquefied, and expanded into a new form before either boy could get back onto their feet. Sir Em appeared where the dagger had once stood. He rushed over to the two and kicked Tweek away from the prince. Craigston grit his teeth, moving back onto his feet quickly to punch the assassin in his stomach. Without missing a beat, the prince struck the assailant’s chest before decking him across the face. Sir Em stumbled back, but unwise remained unaffected. He smirked again, wiping blood from the corner of his lip.

“Not bad, princy.”

Reaching into his sleeves, Sir Em removed the throwing knives from their hidden straps. He tossed them a second later in a criss-cross motion, one that Craigston had little time to block. Without a weapon, the prince was wide open. He crossed his forearms in front of his face and chest as the blades grazed passed.

“S-stop it!” Tweek begged, hurrying over to Craigston as he slipped to one knee. The prince closed one eye, holding his cut up arms within themselves. He glared at the assassin, who cracked his neck.

“I won’t stop.” Sir Em said, revealing two new daggers. “You want the prince safe? Protect him yourself.”

Tweek was holding onto Craigston’s shoulders from behind and the prince could feel his body shaking. He frowned, still glaring at the assassin. “Tweek.” Craigston warned, the commotion was bound to attract the castle’s defense.

Tweek released Craigston to stand. He slipped in front of the prince and grabbed his collar with one hand as his other paled. His palm then turned blue before releasing ice. The ice floated just out of reach and slowly twisted amongst itself, creating a sword. Once formed, Tweek grabbed hold of the blade. Though made of ice, it looked more like a hard crystal than anything else.

“Don’t touch my Craig.” Tweek snapped, raising the blade.

“Tweek!”

Sir Em smirked, spinning his daggers around before rushing at the blond. Tweek had very little knowledge in the way of the sword. Sometimes he would watch Clydesdale and Tolkien spare or sit in on Stanley and Craigston’s practices. His stance hadn’t been the best, but at least he knew it had been right. As the assassin came in, Tweek blocked. The metal clashed against his ice blade and Tweek felt it all over his body, pressure rather than pain. Still, it caught him off guard.

“On my mark!” An archer called out.

Craigston moved back to his feet, “Hold your fire!” He ordered, not wanting Tweek caught in the cross fire.

The archers lowered their bows slightly. All remained on guard, however, ready for the next order. Kylen left his study during the disturbance as Wendelyn sneaked away to fetch Stanley. The scholar moved over to Craigston, frowning deeply.

“He’s back?”

Sir Em flashed Kylen a smile before rotating around Tweek while slashing at him. The assassin had grace that Tweek did not. Luckily, the ice in his sword reacted to his nerves. Tweek didn’t have to think about his next move most of the time, his sword moved with a unique reflex. Each impact caused snow to fall off the blade and mist to fill the air.

“More.” Sir Em pressed, aiming for Tweek’s hand rather than his blade.

Tweek cried out, dropping his sword. The assassin was about to strike when Craigston rushed over and tackled him out of the way. Stanley arrived just in time to move in front of the injured Tweek. He grabbed the ice blade and tossed it to Craigston.

“Sire!” He called out.

Craigston caught the sword and blocked as Em attempted to stab him while he was distracted. The prince smirked, pushing down even as the assassin crossed his daggers. Sir Em winced, trying desperately to keep the ice sword away from his face.

Craigston only pushed down harder.

“Heh.” The assassin grunted, “Look who has the upper hand.”

“Shut up and die.” Craigston replied, coldly.

The two struggled a moment longer, until Sir Em’s daggers melted and his body turned to shadow. Craigston grunted as the sword stabbed into the ground. Stanley frowned, looking around.

“A caster?” He questioned.

“N-no. He’s…that’s something else.” Kylen stated, dreadfully.

Tweek held his bleeding hand, “C-craig.” He called.

The prince turned to look at Tweek on reflex, but found he could not move. His eyes widened as his body remained paralyzed. His own shadow shifted and with it, Sir Em emerged. Stanley pulled out his sword, but the assassin held his dagger at the prince’s throat. More knights arrived, filling the court yard. They pulled out their swords, as well, awaiting the king’s order.

“Craigston!” The king cried, “What are you imbeciles doing? Archers! Fire!”

“There isn’t a clear shot!” One called.

Tweek watched in horror as the assassin forced Craigston up and faced him toward them. The prince winced when the dagger broke skin, if only the first layer. Stanley clenched the handle of his sword, watching Sir Em closely. His mind raced with possibilities, but none would save Craigston.

“Let the prince go, Em.”

“You know this man!?” The king snapped at Stanley, but was ignored.

The world became distant around Tweek. He blocked out the king and his men. The archers faded into obscurity as both Kylen and Stanley were muted by the fog that clouded Tweek’s vision. He saw only Craigston. Their eyes met and the prince gave him a look. Without words, Tweek knew. He knew Craigston didn’t want him to use his magic. Sir Em caught their glance and smirked. Tweek’s grip left his hand and found its way to his collar. He looked away from Craigston, focusing on the assassin.

“Tweek.” Craigston’s voice objected.

Sir Em’s grip tightened and Tweek knew what would happen next. His eyes flashed as his own grip tightened. The sky above cracked, startling the archers. The veins in Tweek’s tight knuckles darkened as his eyes bled sparks of energy. Craigson watched in both disbelief and amazement. The sky cracked again and, this time, lightning struck Tweek’s form. He squeezed his collar and it shattered like glass.

The assassin slit Craigston’s throat and Tweek screamed. Thunder erupted from his body, sending everyone in the court yard flying back. The prince froze. He didn’t feel pain, only pressure. He grabbed his throat and noticed it had been wet, but not with his blood, with water. As everyone fell backwards and hit the ground, Sir Em was simply pushed back. He glanced down and at his blade, impressed to see that ice had formed over its sharp edge. Craigston was surprised, yet again, when Tweek’s power fazed through him. He hadn’t been thrown back like the others, or even pushed as the assassin had been. He remained where he was, untouched.

Tweek’s skin burned like a star. He looked down and at his hands, shaking. His eyes shot back up and looked at Craigston. The prince’s shock fell as he met Tweek’s bright gaze. He smiled and Tweek felt a wave of relief.

“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” He pointed out, causing Tweek to smile.

The king groaned as he was helped back onto his feet by one of his many knights, “He…he has magic!?” He shouted as his attention was ripped away from the assassin and put onto Tweek.

Tweek took a step back. He looked to Sir Em, but the assassin had been gone.

“Kill him.” The king ordered, “I want him dead!”

Craigston cursed under his breath, grabbing Tweek’s ice sword and rushing over. Tweek flinched when the prince moved in front of him and readied his sword.

“I can’t allow that, father.”

“Craigston! Have you lost your mind? He’s a caster! Look at him!”

“I don’t care.” Craigston snapped back, glaring.

“Kill him!” The king ordered and his knights advanced.

“Stand down.” Craigston shot back, causing confusion.

The knights exchanged glances before looking between the two.

“Craigston.” His father said with a bite of warning.

Tweek’s body had been trembling. He felt light as if he could float away and then, in the same vein, heavy as stone. Everything he held deep inside him danced around freely. Some of it screamed to escape him as the rest hugged his body like a warm blanket. Fear made his body spark violently. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but all the shouting tore at his nerves.

“I love him, father. I won’t let you hurt him.”

Tweek’s eyes widened, “C-craig.”

“Excuse me?” The king paled, “You’re under his spell!”

Craigston’s eyes sharpened as he took his stance, “Believe what you want. I will fight back and I won’t hold back.” He forewarned.

After Stanley had helped Kylen back onto his feet, he moved over to the prince. Craigston turned sharply, more than ready to fight the knight. Stanley rolled his eyes in response and Craigston relaxed slightly. The knight then smirked as he pointed his sword forward.

“Forgive me, your majesty. I’m afraid I side with Prince Craigston.”

Tweek shut his eyes tight, _This isn’t happening._

The king was surprised at the betrayal, but pushed it aside with anger. “Arrest the prince and Sir Stanley.” He ordered, his voice firm and deathly calm. “Kill the servant boy.”

_It’s a dream…a nightmare._

The king’s knights, reluctantly, acted on their orders. Stanley moved in quickly. He blocked the nearest sword while side stepping an attack and kicking a third knight off his feet. As the dodged attacker came back around, Craigston slashed at his back seconds before he could strike Stanley. Stanley nodded his head in thanks, already moving closer into the fray. The prince moved in the moment Stanley pulled back. The two rotated around each other, deflecting metal and striking each other’s open opponents.  

_Stop fighting_ , Tweek thought. “I-it’s all my fault.” He told himself.

“P-please stop.” He begged, holding himself. His body flickered like a candle in the wind. _I ruined Craig’s life._ “C-craig.” His eyes opened, filling with tears. 

Stanley caught the prince’s attention shift and moved to block him.

“I-I…I’m sorry, Craig.” Tweek whispered as the prince turned around.

“Tweek?”

With a burst of light, Tweek’s body erupted and shot off into the sky like lightening. Craigston called out to him, but was subdued along with Stanley a moment later.

The limitations of Tweek’s physical body abandoned him. He felt larger than life and yet, small. Compared to the people down below, he was a god. Yet, surrounded by billions of atoms, he was just one brief collection. The sky cracked and he let himself fall. The descent vibrated his very being. He landed, hard, and pulled himself back together. Tweek held his head, stumbling forward as his head split. His memories came rushing back and he was unable to process.

His arm bent against a tree as he used it to keep himself up. Tweek heard footsteps and snapped up right. His skin stopped glowing and his body only sparked when he twitched.

“S-someone there?” He pipped, his nausea increasing with his nerves.

“S-stay back I’m…” Tweek winced as he threw up, his nostrils burning and his vision blurring. He coughed once finished and passed out a second later.

_“Thackeray!” A woman called._

_Tweek rubbed his head. He looked around him and he felt small. He was still in the forest, though the trees were speaking to him. He tilted his head to the side and walked over to one. The words spoken were like a whisper. Tweek didn’t recognize the voice or the language, but he giggled all the same and spoke back._

_“Are you talking to trees again, oh son.” The woman sighed, walking over to him. “What did I tell you about doing strange things?”_

_“N-not to.” He squeaked and she sighed again._

_“Let us hurry. Your father is waiting.”_

_Tweek looked down at his mother’s hand. He frowned and looked up. Her fuzzy face slowly came into focus and, for the first time, he remembered her. Her frizzy brown hair and her bright green eyes. He studied the laughing lines on her face, not sure he had ever seen his mother laugh before. She brought him back to their cottage and his father was waiting. The man looked displeased and, though Tweek could barely remember him, he wasn’t surprised to see his expression._

_“What was it this time?” He asked his wife._

_“Just trees, dear.”_

_Tweek’s cheeks puffed up, “They talk to me. I-it would be rude not to talk back.”_

_“This again.” The man groaned, “Son, listen. Trees do not talk to you. You only think that they do. It’s like….rain on a sunny day,”_

_Tweek stopped listening, his father would soon stop making sense._

_“Understand, son?”_

_Tweek nodded to appease him, “Yes, f-father.”_

_A shift, Tweek was away from his parents again. He sat on the grass and sang to the flowers. They too, spoke to him. Another unknown language, but Tweek enjoyed the company. He moved to his belly as he pet a petal, “Mother and father say my head’s…not on right. D-do you think that’s true?”_

_“Thackeray! Thackeray?” His mother called._

_“I-I should go.” Tweek stammered, hurrying to his feet._

_He was suddenly deep in town. His father tried selling coffee beans from a large sack. A Turk claimed it would change the way people thought about their mornings, but no one seemed interested. Tweek was tasked with trying to play to the motherly side of women. He hated it, hated manipulating people. People in general made him feel uneasy. They were nothing like talking to the trees or the flowers or the clouds in the sky._

_They all wore masks._

_“Thackeray.” His father said sternly, “Stop daydreaming.”_

_Tweek closed his eyes slowly and, when they opened, he was back in the woods. As he aged, he started to understand the voices. He learned that the trees spoke elven, the flowers spoke fae, and the sky spoke draconic. The elves would tell him how man is destroying the balance of nature. That Tweek would like it better in their veil. Tweek agreed with their thoughts, but declined their offer. The faeries came in and out of their plane, mostly to cause mischief. One faerie whined about losing some dust while trying to prank two boys. Tweek liked when they came out at night. Their tiny glowing bodies looked just like fireflies. The dragon in the sky realm rarely spoke. When he did, however, Tweek couldn’t ignore him. He felt like a child being scolded half the time. Then, there were gentler times. Times when his parents made him feel worthless and unloved. The voice came to him when he cried and comforted him with a song._

_A song Tweek had taken to while he bathed._

_One day, Tweek froze his water while drinking. Another, he electrocuted a rabid wolf. His parents didn’t know what to do with their son. They tried antidotes and potions from a local physician, but nothing seemed to work. Late one night, Tweek overheard his parents talking frantically. They were afraid of him. His father wanted to sell him, but his mother fought back with tears._

_Tweek’s eyes filled with tears as he sneaked away. He found an empty patch of dirt and sobbed there. The sky cracked and opened before pouring. He stared at his hands sinking in the mud and wished the ground would just swallow him up. Instead, lightning struck and a man appeared. He looked to Tweek softly, bent down, and pulled the boy into his arms._

_“Coi ui kepatmasto, vrak.” He said soft but firmly._

_It is alright, child._

_Tweek shook, “I-I’m a monster.”_

_The man’s body was frail. Nothing like Tweek had pictured. He ran his fingers through Tweek’s golden mane and sighed, “You are what monsters fear.” He replied, simply and in English._

_“I-I don’t want…I want to be normal. Please. Help me.”_

_There was a long pause and then the man wrapped his hands around Tweek’s neck. Tweek froze. He was still young, but he wasn’t stupid. The man was a stranger and he allowed him to pull Tweek into his arms. Tweek reached up to claw at the man’s grip, but was met with rough scales._

_The man never let go nor did he tighten his grip, ”Jashi batobot svabolen meageic wux…_ _halkvri wer tairais confnic ekess lleisgar tenamalo.”_

_Conceal that which commands you, until the time comes to rise again._

_Tweek cried out as he clawed at the man’s jagged skin. His fingertips bled, but began healing instantly. His eyes welled and he struggled to break free. Then, the man pulled away. Tweek felt something cold and heavy around his neck. He reached up and touched the collar. He looked back up at the man whose bright blue eyes fell white as his blank face smiled wistfully._

_“W-wait,” He reached out for the man, but his body turned to ash._

_Later that night, Tweek returned to his parents. His collar gave them a fright, but proved to be a blessing. Soon thereafter, Tweek didn’t have any other accidents. The voices stopped talking to him and he stopped trying to speak with them. Sometimes, he would feel his blood ran cold or his palms spark. In those times, he twitched._

_Tweek thought his parents were happy, but they wore masks like everyone else. His father still sold him. His mother cried, but she didn’t stop it. Tweek grabbed his collar, thinking he was better. That he was safe._

_He was wrong._

_And alone._

When Tweek awoke, it had been during nightfall. There was fire flickering with the wind at his far right. He groaned at the attack against his eyelids, rubbing them until they opened.

“Thackeray?” Tweek grumbled, “Is that…was that my name?” He winced as his heart wrenched, “W-why did they sell me? I fixed it. I-I made it go away. I-I tried so hard…I was a good son!” He shouted as his body burst with energy. 

A muffled sound startled the unstable blond. Sitting by the fire was a boy, roughly Tweek’s age. He was quite dirty and wore his poverty with no shame.

Tweek’s body sparked as he shot up, “W-who are you?”

The beggar smiled and attempted to reply, but Tweek hadn’t understood him. He tried again and still Tweek’s expression remained scared and confused. The strange sounds that came out of the boy’s mouth put Tweek’s anxiety on edge. He watched the beggar closely, trying not to seem too afraid, although the brief body spasm he gave betrayed his discomfort.

He sighed, a sound Tweek could comprehend.

“Kenneth.” He heard as Sir Em emerged from the beggar’s shadow, “That’s our name.” The assassin informed, removing his hood, and plopping down beside himself. The two looked identical, though one had been in better visible condition.

Tweek grabbed his head, stumbling back. “How is that? W-what are you? Why are you here!? This is too much, t-too much…”

“Calm down.” Em said, frowning some. “I don’t wish to fight. I know you hate my guts, but I was only trying to hel---“

Tweek flung his arm out as lightening shot out of his palm and struck the assassin through the heart. He fell back and hit the ground with a loud thud before turning back to shadow. Kenneth grunted and rubbed his chest. Then, Sir Em appeared again from his shadow.

“That was quite rude.” He huffed.

Tweek’s hand shook, “I-I don’t…”

“You can’t exactly kill a reaper.” Sir Em informed, smugly.

“R-reaper?” He flinched, “As in t-the Grim Reaper?”

Both Kenneth and Sir Em grimaced, “Not at all.” Then Em went on, “Do you know how much life is on this realm alone? You honestly think one guy’s just running around taking lives? The Grim Reaper is real, but there are reapers. Lots of us too.”

Tweek held his chest, “I-is Craig…is he supposed to die? I-I’ll take his place! Please…I’ll-I’ll do anything! Just don’t…---“

“Calm down.” Em repeated. “I was never going to kill your mate. I’m what they call a rouge reaper.” He said with inchoate pride.

The moment had been serious enough, but Tweek couldn’t prevent his face from heating up. He gripped his chest harder, opening his mouth to protest.

_“I missed you.”_

Tweek stared down, his eyes watering some.

_W-why did I leave you? C-craig…_

Kenneth and Sir Em exchanged glances before looking back to Tweek, “We just needed you to release your true power. Man has been in power for far too long. It’s time the age of magic returned. The veil needs to be lifted.”

Tweek wiped his eyes, “I-I need to go back.”

“Go back?” Em questioned.

“F-for Craig. I need to…” He shook his head, unable to reason with himself.

“The prince is part of the problem. Royals rule this world. Do you honestly think power should go to only one person? One family. Because of what? Wealth? Land. It’s absurd.”

Tweek frowned as he looked away, “C-craig isn’t like that. He…he hates being prince. A-and he…he accepts me for who-what I am.”

Sir Em shrugged, “Good thing he’s already on his way then.”

“W-what?”

“Come.” Em offered as he stood with Kenneth, “I’ll bring you to the casters. The revolution has already begun.”

Tweek rubbed his head, trying to digest everything. By old habit, he pulled at his hair. A phantom touch stirred his thoughts and, in his mind, he saw Craigston. The part of Tweek that wanted to disappear was silenced by the thought of being in the prince’s arms again.

Sir Em shrugged as he waited. Kenneth shot him a look and the assassin rolled his eyes, “Fine.” Tweek heard him say before shimmering away. Perhaps, the beggar sensed Tweek’s discomfort of the entity. The servant still hated him, even if he was only trying to help. His mind fell back onto the assassin’s attacks and he couldn’t stop the sparks of rage that danced around his skin.

Kenneth was patient with him. He waited until Tweek calmed down before leading them out of the forest. Tweek didn’t mind the walk or the quiet. There had been a lot swirling around in his head. When his thoughts dipped too dangerously toward the brink of insanity or the isolation of depression, Tweek thought about Craigston. Everything was changing and Tweek felt helpless. No matter his power, he felt weak without the prince nearby.

_“I love him, father. I won’t let you hurt him.”_

Tweek’s skin started to glow as he grew flustered. Kenneth raised his brow, but said nothing on it. The servant shook his head, trying to force the red from his face away. He rubbed his forearms, as if such an act would stop his skin from radiating. Then, he thought about his sessions. He tried breathing exercises and then meaningless chanting. Slowly, his body relaxed and he calmed. The prince’s words had been magic all their own. Tweek always wondered how Craigston felt. Then, he announced his feelings to the world. With such calm and ease, in fact, it left Tweek’s heart swollen. He didn’t know if he could do the same, but Tweek vowed he would at least tell Craigston his own feelings.

Kenneth led Tweek into a cave and suddenly he became vastly aware of his surroundings. It was cold and dark and the perfect place to kill someone. Kenneth had been a reaper. Perhaps he couldn’t die, but Tweek could still put up a fight. If he hurt the reaper enough, he may flee. Though, Kenneth looked slightly bored and hardly glanced Tweek’s way. They continued walking until Tweek heard the sound of running water. His body calmed at the sight of a waterfall. Kenneth looked to him and then at the very same waterfall.

Nothing but incoherent noises came out of the beggar’s mouth. He then rolled his eyes and gestured for Tweek to step through. Tweek looked at him like he had several heads. He opened his mouth to question Kenneth, but the beggar had moved into the waterfall. Tweek nearly flinched when Kenneth disappeared through the cave wall behind it. He bit his lip and started to chew, thinking about turning back.

“Tweek!”

Tweek’s heart jumped as he spun around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia time!  
> England didn't become acquainted with coffee until 1637, when a Turk introduced the drink to Oxford.


	10. The trees have Ears

Craigston was brought down into the dungeon and locked away. Stanley, on the other hand, had been manhandled into the cell beside the prince. Old stone held together poorly with a constant drip. Where the leak had been, no one had known. What had caused the leaking, had also been unknown. Rats and critters alike, took refuge in the dark cavern under the prodigious castle.

Craigston grabbed the bars when the knights turned to leave, “Can you give my father a message?” He asked, his face devoid of expression.

The knights turned back around, only to find the prince’s middle finger waiting for them. Stanley smirked at their combined annoyance, watching them as they left in angry huffs. Then he sighed, leaning against the stone wall behind him.

“That could have gone better.” The knight muttered.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “No one asked for your aid.”

“Don’t act as if you did not need it.” Stanley challenged.

There was a brief silence before the knight spoke again.

“So. You love Tweek?”

Craigston was taken aback. He cursed at himself for blushing and rolled his eyes to hide his flustered state from himself. “Did I stutter as I said it?” He retorted.

Stanley chuckled, “No need to be defensive. I think it’s a good thing. Good for the both of you.” He added.

“Whatever you say.” The prince grumbled, moving to sit against the bars.

“He only left to protect you. You must know he feels the same way as you.”

Craigston looked down, watching a rat scurry passed. A part of him remained uncertain of Tweek’s feelings. There were times, however, when he was sure. Times when Tweek looked into his eyes or smiled at only him. Times when they held hands and Tweek stopped twitching. His eyelids lowered as he thought about their battle and Tweek leaving.

_“I-I…I’m sorry, Craig.”_

“He’s scared…and alone.” Craigston then said, “I need to find him.”

Stanley smiled as if the prince could see him and nodded his head, “What’s the plan, sire?”

“We could just let you out?” Tolkien offered as he entered the dungeon with a grinning Clydesdale.

Craigston moved back onto his feet, from the other side he heard Stanley do the same. “Guys.” He greeted, slightly surprised. Both flashed him a lopsided smile.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Clydesdale teased as he freed the prince.

Tolkien moved to do the same for Stanley, “We’ll make it look like you broke out. Oh, Wendy told me to tell you that…you should head to the waterfall?”

Stanley nodded, “Thank you.” He said, putting his arm out. Tolkien returned the act by grabbing the knight’s forearm.

Craigston looked to Clydesdale as he stepped out, “I don’t know what will happen next. I just…” The prince lost his words, looking to his friend.

Clydesdale smiled warmly, “We’ll be here when you return with Tweek.”

“And we’ll fight at your side, should it come to that.” Tolkien added, brimming with pride.

Craigston held his face for a moment, blocking his grateful smile. When he removed his hand, his face shifted back to its blank state. He raised a middle to each of them and they smiled as they returned his gesture with one of their own.

Kylen poked his head in, lowering the hood of the cloak he had been wearing. “I’m not sure how long this sleep spell will last, we should get going.” He informed, flashing Stanley a smile.

Stanley smiled back, only to grow serious. “Aye. Let’s find Tweek.” He stated and Craigston nodded.

The prince looked back a moment and his guards bowed to him properly.

“God speed.” Tolkien called out.

“Don’t die!” Clydesdale added, receiving an ebony elbow. The guard chuckled, “Alright, alright. We have to make this look real. Punch me in the face. OW! Fuck’s sake, Toke!”

“You told me to.” Tolkien defended.

“T-that really hurt.” He whined.

“Don’t cry, man. You’re the prince’s guard…come on.”

Craigston smirked as he followed Stanley and Kylen out of the dungeon. As they passed, all the guards had been asleep. The prince observed each slumped over guard, but couldn’t decipher Kylen’s spell. That was, until he noticed they all had drank the same ale. _Clever_ , he thought as they went by.

Kylen stopped the two, “Are you hurt?” He asked Craigston, looking at his arms.

Craigston hardly noticed the minor wounds, “I’m fine.”

“You could get infected.” The scholar pressed.

Craigston rolled his eyes, “I can worry about that later. For now, we should escape.”

Kylen frowned, clearly displeased but he didn’t argue. Instead, he handed the prince Tweek’s ice blade. Craigston kept a straight face, but was quite happy to have the blue crystal back in his grasp. As he looked upon the blade, the prince thought of Tweek. For a moment, it felt as if he had been holding the blond’s hand and his grip tightened.

“Put these on.” Kylen then said, handing both Stanley and the prince cloaks.

The castle had been on high alert ever since Tweek released his power in the courtyard. Craigston observed the rise in guard duty and the knights scattered about. There were more archers deployed, which made slipping out of the castle increasingly difficult.

“Wait for the signal.” He heard Kylen say.

“What signal?” Stanley asked.

Kylen hadn’t looked proud of his next words, “Cartesian agreed to cause a distraction.”

“Oh? For how much coin?” Stanley spat.

“More than I’m willing to admit.” The scholar, apprehensively, replied.

Craigston looked between the two before analyzing his surroundings. He wasn’t sure what the signal had been, but figured he would know it when he saw it. Indeed, it had been pretty straight forward. A flaming arrow shot into the air as a carriage crashed just outside the castle wall.

Kylen was quick to lead the pair of dark haired boys in the opposite direction. They used an alleyway the prince hadn’t been familiar with. He noted its location as they went and was surprised to find a dip into the ground. The three moved underground a moment before slipping out and into the forest. Craigston wondered if his father knew of the pathway or if it had been created by casters.

A fat mercenary awaited the group, accompanied by Leopold. He poked at Kylen’s chest the moment they were close. Stanley seemed quite peeved at both the sight of the brunet and of his actions.

“Here’s the rest.” Kylen snapped, handing off a small bag.

“Ah. Thank you, heretic.” He mused and Craigston already hated him.

“Shut up, Cartesian.” Stanley hissed, rolling his eyes.

Cartesian smirked, seeming to enjoy annoying both boys. “I can’t believe I helped save the prince of all people. You guys really owe me one.” He went on to say.

“I JUST paid you.” Kylen growled.

“C-come on, lads. Let’s not fight.” Leopold intervened.

Craigston ignored the back and forth to spin around and aimed his sword at Stanley. Stanley blinked, surprised. Then his eyes narrowed and he raised his hand to calm the now panicked Kylen.

“Oh shit. The prince looks PISSED.” Cartesian laughed, shoving the coin bag away. “I would love to stay and help, but…I JUST ordered some food back at the tavern.”

“You knew his name. The assassin? You told my father it had been Bartles.” He accused, “Where do your loyalties lay, Stanley?”

“Sire, calm down.” Kylen tried to coax, shooting Cartesian a warning glare as he attempted to flee.

Stanley sighed, “I set up Bartles.” He admitted, looking the prince over. “He knew about Tweek and was going to inform the king.”

Craigston’s gaze slightly narrowed, “The assassin.” He pressed.

“I do not know him. I know OF him. He goes by Sir Em. No one knows who he truly is. Now? I have no idea WHAT he is.” The knight responded and his words were genuine.

The prince scoffed under his breath, “If you’re lying to me, knight---“

“You’ll kill me, sure.” Stanley said as he pat the blade aimed upon him.

Kylen exhaled, “Are we finished?”

Craigston put his ice sword away, strapped at his hip from his belt. “For now.” He stated, eyes still skeptical of Stanley.

“Cartesian’s the one who hired him.” Kylen blurted. 

Cartesian froze in place. He spun back around and chuckled lightly, “That I did. To kill your father. Not you. He’s a good assassin, but not a very good listener.” The mercenary tried to joke.

The prince narrowed his eyes, moving toward Cartesian, but Leopold slipped in the way.

“W-wait.” The healer said, arms out. “He’s not worth it.”

“Ey!” Ericson snapped.

“It’s true.” Leopold snapped, glaring back at the mercenary. He then looked back and at Craigston, “I may not know everything that’s going on. But…that much I know. Cartesian drains your soul, don’t let him. Y-you should just find Tweek. I’m sure he really misses you.”

“Fuck you guys! I aid in your escape and this is how I’m repaid?”

“AGAIN. I. PAID. YOU.” Kylen grit.

Stanley rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Just go, lardass.”

Cartesian continued to curse as he stormed out of the forest.

Leopold sighed as he watched him go. He then smiled, turning back to the others. “S-sorry about him. You’re a good prince, Craig.”

Stanley and Kylen both winced, but relaxed when Craigston let the informality slide.

“Should we really bring him with us? Wendy wants us to meet her. The other casters may not…accept the prince.” The knight realized.

“Forget your casters. I need to find Tweek.” Craigston shot back, causing Leopold to smile brightly.

“Who better to find him than a group of casters?” Kylen retorted.

Craigston frowned, but couldn’t deny the logic. He then sighed, “Alright. Bring me to them. The casters are an enemy to my father. Now Tweek is. That means…I am, as well.”

Stanley and Kylen exchanged glances as Leopold swooned.

“I must say…I’m relieved to see you reciprocating Tweek’s feelings.”

Craigston rolled his eyes, “I don’t need to hear it from you too, scholar.”

“Did Stan already tease you?” He laughed.

“I did.” Stanley chuckled and Leopold giggled into his hands.

“I’m still your prince. So, shut your mouths and lead the way.” Craigston grumbled, turning away from the trio.

Stanley continued to snicker, even after Kylen had nudged him. The scholar then headed deeper into the forest, checking subtle markers as he led the way. Certain trees had bark carefully picked apart at different angles, Craigston noticed. He also noticed a few plants, flowers, and fungi stained with some kind of berry. Hunters tracked similar patterns in their game. Footprints were most telling, but a good hunter followed blood and environmental disturbances as well.

“How far is this place?” The prince asked, his voice lacking the intrigue that had been there.

“Far enough. But close enough.” Kylen replied, “We’ll reach the entrance by nightfall.” He added to avoid a glare.

Craigston spoke little until nightfall. He listened here and there to Stanley and Kylen’s conversations or Leopold’s random singing, but otherwise remained impatient and bored. Hardly a day, and the prince missed his blond servant more than words could express. If Tweek had casted a spell upon him, it had been a massive one.

“We’re nearing the cave.” Kylen called out.

The prince trailed behind absentmindedly at some point. He looked up when the scholar spoke and nodded his head before picking up pace. The cave he was brought to didn’t appear special. In fact, it looked old. Moss clung to its base and spread upwards, attempting to encase the cave’s mouth over time.

“Someone’s been here.” Kylen whispered to Stanley.

Though he no longer had his sword, the knight took over leading their way. Craigston walked alongside the scholar, with one hand resting upon the hilt of Tweek’s sword. Leopold trailed slightly behead the two, trying not to appear as scared as he had felt. The cave was cold and dark, but the sound of running water brought an eerie kind of peace. Craigston couldn’t help but think about Tweek, startling himself when the blond came into view.

"Tweek!" Craigston shouted, hurrying over to him.

Tweek spun around and the prince felt his heart skip a beat. Large green eyes welled with tears. Craigston took Tweek's face into his hands and sighed out his relief.

Tweek whimpered when he was hugged, "I-I'm sorry, Craig. I-I'll...I'll never run away again!" He croaked, burying his face into the prince's form.

"Good." Craigston replied, hugging tighter.

Stanley and Kylen exchanged affectionate glances, causing Leopold to smile. They rolled their eyes in near unison and followed the chipper blond over.

"Hey." Kylen called.

Tweek squeaked, blushing when he realized other people had been around. "O-oh. Hi you u-um guys." He replied shyly as he peeked up from Craigston's embrace.

"How did you know about this place?" Stanley asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Stan." Kylen reprimanded.

“Hi Tweek!” Leopold practically shouted, though they were all close by.

Tweek waved meekly at the other, brighter, blond.

Craigston pulled away slightly, cocking his brow.

"K-kenneth brought me here." Tweek supplied when he felt all eyes on him, still clinging to his prince.

"Kenneth?" Both Stanley and Kylen questioned.

Leopold tilted his head to the side.

"The town beggar?" Craigston asked, "He's a caster, as well?"

"He isn't." Kylen frowned, "I-I mean...I don't think he is. Kayin is though, isn’t she?" He asked Stanley, directly.

"He isn't." Tweek noted, "He's a reaper. A-and the assassin."

Kylen grimaced, "A reaper?"

"Ken's Sir Em!?" Stanley exclaimed.

Craigston took Tweek's face back into his hands as he checked him for any injuries, his face stern. "That bastard was here?” He asked Tweek, “Are you alright? Where is he?"

“C-craig.” Tweek whined.

Stanley frowned, “Come on, Kyle. Someone has a lot of explaining to do.”

Leopold opened his mouth to talk, but Kylen nudged him to follow and so he did. Stanley led the two through the waterfall and passed the wall behind it. Craigston watched briefly, somewhat impressed by the hidden magic. Then, his eyes fell back on Tweek who had been squirming in place.

The prince lowered his hands off the blond’s face to rest upon his shoulders, “What do you want to do?” He asked, deep blue eyes glued upon a pair emerald greens.

“W-what do you mean?” Tweek asked, looking every which way, nervously.

“We can’t exactly go back to the castle and if we meet the rebel casters, I only assume they’ll want you to join their fight.”

“R-right.” Tweek blinked a few times before looking down, “I-I don’t know. I…you have to go back don’t you? E-eventually you’ll have to…be a prince again. And we-we’ll…”

“Hey,” Craigston interrupted, lightly squeezing his shoulders.

Tweek shut his eyes tight, “T-this can’t end well, Craig. It’s like the whole world wants us apart. And I…I-I can’t bare that thought! I just…I love you so much, it hurts!” He confessed, shaking.

Tweek’s eyes opened when he felt Craigston yank him in by the shoulders. They widened a moment later, surprised to see the prince so close and feel their lips collide. Craigston’s eyes had only been half open and closed as soon as Tweek kissed him back and closed his own eyes. Craigston touched the side of Tweek’s face, brushing the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

Tweek shuddered as he started to glow, “C-craig.” He warned, his body tingling with tiny sparks.

“I’m not afraid.” The prince replied, turning his head.

Tweek opened his mouth to welcome Craigston’s tongue, wrapping his arms around the prince’s neck as he did. His hands twitched, yearning to touch the raven locks. Craigston felt a static shock and smirked into their kiss. He lifted the shorter boy up and Tweek moaned into his mouth, gasping when he was pressed against the cave wall. Tweek’s cold breath grew hot as he fought to keep up with the prince’s venturing tongue.

“Craig.” He begged in between breathes. Tweek’s hands clawed at the back of Craigston’s tunic, taking in fistfuls of blue material.

“Fuck.” He heard the prince groan.

Tweek eyes opened when Craigston pulled away to kiss down his neck. He was left dazed, but quickly came to when he spotted the waterfall. Fear of being caught planted in Tweek’s stomach, but the burning in his chest swallowed his fear whole. His mind fell blank as the prince sucked on his neck.

“M-mark me again.” Tweek practically pleaded.

“Tweek.” The prince groaned again, ignoring the pain forming in his arms.

Tweek whimpered at the sound of his name falling out of Craigston’s mouth and across his skin. His hands then braved into the prince’s hair. He felt Craigston suck harder as he began playing with the dark strands. Tweek moaned louder, causing the prince to press their bodies closer together.

He grunted and Tweek flinched, “C-craig?”

Craigston set Tweek down slowly as he pulled away from his neck, pecking the spot he had been sucking on. “Sorry.” He muttered as the fog left his eyes.

“A-are you alright?” The blond asked, concern hanging on every word as the glow on his skin slowly faded. “Craig!” Tweek’s body sobered the moment he noticed blood staining the prince’s sleeves.

Craigston followed Tweek’s eyes and shrugged, “Oh yeah.”

“Oh yeah?” Tweek angrily mocked. “Y-you’re hurt!” He added, shifting back to concern.

“I’m fine.” The prince offered, but Tweek rejected his words.

“Let me see.” He demanded.

Craigston wasn’t used to the blond being assertive. The prince wanted to object, simply from Tweek’s tone, but found he was just turned on. Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and rolled up his sleeves. Tweek frowned when he winced. The blood had started to dry and made the fabric stick to his skin.

“H-here.” Tweek whispered, placing his hands over Craigston’s arms.

Craigston watched Tweek’s face as the boy closed his eyes. He furrowed his brow and focused. The prince wasn’t sure what was happening, until he felt something cool wash over his skin. Tweek’s hands leaked of glowing blue water that ran along Craigston’s wounds. It washed the blood away while closing the minor gaps and faded before dripping onto the ground.

Tweek murmured as he let his hands fall to his sides. He stumbled, but Craigston grabbed him and held him upright.

“You healed me. Tweek. Are you alright?”

“F-fine.” He lied, feeling dizzy. “I’ve never…healed anyone before.” Tweek confessed, letting his head rest on Craigston’s shoulder.

Craigston frowned as he scooped the boy up. Tweek went to protest, but mumbled instead. He then curled into the prince, burying his face.

“I still feel strange. I-I think it’s from losing my collar. Or getting all my memories back. M-maybe from being in the sky. Or u-us…I-I don’t know.” He rambled.

“You taste g-good.” Tweek added in a soft whisper that made the hair on the back of Craigston’s neck stick up.  

“Just rest.” He replied as he headed over to the waterfall. Craigston raised an eyebrow, questioning his next action. He then sighed and stepped through, pushing himself to keep walking, even as his mind yelled at him to stop. It was an unusal feeling. The water from the waterfall didn't leave the prince wet or push his body downward. It felt similar to a light drizzle, but left the body warm rather than wet and cold.

“You could have told us!” Stanley shouted.

“Stan.” Kylen said lowly, trying to calm the knight.

“Aw jeez. Come on, lads. You’re friends! Don’t fight...”

“…isn’t this one cute?”

Craigston walked over. He glanced around in that short time, absorbing his surroundings. It was strange to see a natural formation take on such a domestic shape. Either it had been worked upon for years, or it had been magic. Perhaps, both. He expected a small space cramped with shabby citizens. Instead, the space appeared endless. The entrance led directly into an open market with tents upon tents. Small cottages littered the outskirts. Further out, Craigston spotted farm land filled with crops and livestock. In the distance beyond even that, there was a castle. Smaller than his own, but still impressive.

“I just don’t understand. We’ve been friends for years, Ken.”

Stanley sounded more hurt than angry by the time Craigston reached them. Kylen had his arms wrapped around each other, holding his own elbows for comfort. Clearly, he felt the same as the knight. The prince looked to the beggar and frowned. Sir Em stood behind the beggar, leaning roughly against his back. Kenneth looked exhausted, whereas, Em beamed with life. Leopold looked between everyone, unsure and nervous.

Craigston’s jaw visibly clenched, “You.”

Em tilted his head to the side, “Oh. Hey, princy. Tweek alright?”

Stanley moved to stop Craigston from rushing the assassin. He pointed down and at Tweek, reminding the prince of the boy in his arms. Kylen shifted his attention off Kenneth and onto Craigston with Tweek.

“Did something happen?” The scholar asked, worriedly.

“A few things.” He replied without going into detail. “Marshall.” The prince ordered and the knight sighed as he was handed Tweek.

Kylen flinched, “W-wait---“

Leopold gasped.

Craigston pushed passed Kenneth, pulling out his sword, and slashing Em across the chest. The beggar’s cursing was muffled and incoherent as he rubbed his chest. Sir Em stumbled back briefly, chuckling as he touched the black ooze that leaked out of him. The prince ignored the unnatural blood, as well as, the assassin’s taunting smirk and stabbed through him. Ice splintered out of the blade and over the fallen reaper's chest. He looked surprised a moment before the light faded from his eyes. Leopold rushed over, lifting Em’s body into his lap. He wanted to heal the reaper, but he hadn’t known how. The body turned to shadow a moment later and sank away. He reappeared behind Kenneth, who glared. Sir Em, on the other hand, smiled at Leopold’s kind act. The two had only just met and the boy was frantic over saving his life.

_How sweet_ , the reaper thought.

“Is that the prince?” A caster called.

“He’s attacking one of our own!” Another cried.

“He’s not…what is he?” Someone gasped.

“That’s my brother!” A girl snapped, hurrying over to Sir Em.

Kenneth pet her head as Sir Em wrapped his arms around the younger girl.

“Hey Kayin.”

Her face nuzzled into the assassin before turning sharply. She looked to Craigston, who only stared at his blade; fixated on the magic that was released from it. He used the sword before, but there had been no magic then. He felt his blood boil when he saw Sir Em. It cooled, however, when he stabbed the assassin.

“A reaper?” A caster gaped.

Craigston decided to put his blade away. He then frowned as he noticed the gathering crowd.

“Is that the boy?” Another pointed out, gesturing to Tweek in Stanley’s arms.

Craigston moved in front of Stanley on instinct, blocking line of sight. His eyes narrowed at the many casters. They didn’t appear hostile, but the prince hadn’t been convinced. Kylen cleared his throat to speak on everyone’s behalf, but was cut off by the sound of a sharp whistle.

Then, the crowd parted as three women approached.

“Rebecca?” The prince blurted.

Wendelyn stood at the center with two other young women. Craigston recognized the blonde at the right to be Princess Barbara and the red head at her left to be his cousin.

“Red.” She corrected, rolling her eyes. “Craig? I heard about your treachery. Took you long enough.” She teased and it had been light hearted.

“We are the Witches Three.” Barbara announced.

“Casters of Gaia.” Red mused.

“Mothers of the Caster’s Revolution.”  Wendelyn proclaimed.

“State your presence, Prince Craigston.” They said in unison, eyes upon him.

Craigston frowned, “I am here on Tweek’s behalf. My father wants him dead. He wants all of you dead.”

“Do you speak for your father?” The blonde asked.

“You know he does not, Bebe.” Wendelyn retorted.

Red nodded, “Craig has always been the black sheep of the family. Forever butting heads.” She noted.

“Yet YOU’RE the caster.” The prince couldn’t help pointing out.

“Be that as it may…how do we know you aren’t simply acting? A show for us and a puppet for your father.” Barbara went on to say.

“He loves the Dragonborn.” Wendelyn pointed out.

“Dragonborn?” Craigston questioned, glancing down at Tweek.

“Aww. Is that true, Craig?” Red asked, beaming.

Craigston glared, trying and failing to block his blush. “What does that have to do with your revolution?”

“You are the prince of South Kingdom. If you usurp your father, you can make magic legal once more. Casters won’t have to live in fear. We can all live as one.” Wendelyn explained.

“You want me to kill my father?” Craigston asked, stiffly.

The three witches exchanged glances before looking back at him.

“You may not have to kill him.” Red attempted.

Craigston squinted his eyes, letting the idea sink in. He could care less about being prince or ruling a kingdom. Then, Tweek groaned softly in his arms. He gripped down on reflex as he peeked down. Tweek would be safe if magic was legal and perhaps they could be together publicly, as well.

“Tweek needs rest.” He finally said. “And…I’ll think about it.” He added, turning to Wendelyn, “Is there somewhere I can place him?”

Wendelyn smiled, “Of course. Follow me.” She paused to point at Kenneth and Em, “Do not think we have forgotten about you. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Kennth rubbed the back of his head as Sir Em rolled his eyes. Kayin nudged him and he smiled when she took hold of his arm.

“This way, sire.” Wendelyn then said as she walked away.

Craigston followed the witch. There was a lot to think about, but all that came to mind was Tweek. He was worried about the blond passing out and about him inevitably joining the caster revolution. News about the servant practically being a dragon had been unnerving, not that the prince cared. He was certain he would still love Tweek, fangs and all.

“You can stay in this cottage.” He heard the witch say.

Craigston grumbled his thanks as Wendelyn opened the door for him.

“I know you worry about him.” She said, “But he’s stronger than he looks.”

“I know.” The prince replied softly as he looked down at Tweek, “Won’t stop me from worrying.” He added, furrowing his brow.

Wendelyn smiled fondly at the two, “Take care. Until morning, then.”

“Right.” Craigston muttered, setting Tweek down when the door shut.

Tweek cringed in his sleep, but relaxed when Craigston pet his head. He watched the boy’s eyelids twitch and then settle as he sat down beside him.

_“I just…I love you so much, it hurts!”_

Craigston smiled gently, “I love you too, Tweek.”

Wendelyn let out a soft sigh when she walked away from the cottage. Her witch sisters waited outside for her before heading toward the castle. She would join them shortly, but first she needed to speak with the boys. Kayin had lingered with said boys, still clinging to the supposed assassin’s arm. Stanley and Kylen seemed to have taken up conversation as Kenneth dozed off while sitting up. Leopold hummed softly to himself and swayed from side to side.

She cleared her throat.

Kenneth yawned, a sight no one wished to see. Just a sliver of his tongue remained and, whoever had cut it out, did a poor job. Kayin glared when the others grimaced, but was calmed by Sir Em patting her head. She noticed Leopold’s eyes were curious above all else and he hadn’t appeared bothered by the sight of her brother's lack of tongue. Em raised an eyebrow, looking the two over. Leopold looked away quick and shyly, causing the reaper to smirk.

“As I told Stan and Kyle, I never took Cartesian’s request seriously. I simply wished to help Tweek free himself of his binds.” The assassin said before being asked.

Wendelyn glanced over to her boys, neither looked pleased.

“How long have you been a reaper?” She asked.

Sir Em shrugged, “Started when I was ten.”

Stanley frowned, “Around the time your tongue was…?”

“Did you,” Kylen started to clue in, “Did you cut out your own tongue, Ken?”

Leopold gasped, it was a horrible thought. A painful one, at that.

“W-what? Why on Earth would he do that?” Stanley barked.

“To protect us.” The scholar replied, eyelids lowering some.

Kenneth nodded as Sir Em spoke, “If you heard the true voice of a reaper. You would likely grow ill or worse. It was either I left with Grim and never saw any of you again. Or I took matters into my own hands. I decided to stick around, cutting my tongue out seemed like the best way at the time.” He explained.

“And Sir Em?” Kylen went on to ask, “When did you create him?”

Kayin shrank, “T-that was because of me.”

“Kayin was just discovering her powers. I had to watch over her. So, I created someone who could.” The assassin added, petting his sister’s head. “I became an assassin years later. Grim wasn’t pleased with my…lack of work. I needed to collect souls and the coin was decent.”

“You could have told us. All of this.” Kylen said, anger on his face but not in his voice.

Stanley folded his arms over his chest, “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want either of you to blame yourselves.”

“Blame ourselves?” Kylen questioned.

“I became a reaper because I died. We went swimming, remember? Stan started wrestling with me and we both hit our heads too hard. Kyle, you couldn’t save us both. You saved Stan and I drowned.”

“I-I…I don’t remember that.” Kylen whispered.

Stanley frowned, “Yeah I mean…I do, but not like that.”

“You came back up.” Kylen recalled, untrusting of his own memories as he grabbed the side of his head.

Kenneth nodded. “I came back up a reaper.” Sir Em stated.

“Ken…” The scholar was at a loss.

“We killed you?” Stanley choked.

Kenneth shook his head. “It was an accident.” Em assured.

“And you still decided to stay with us? Even after…” Kylen couldn’t finish any of his sentences. He was left horrified and in disbelief. He shook his head, squeezing down on it.

“Can you ever forgive us?” Stanley asked, taking a step forward.

Kenneth laughed. The sound was muffled, but delighted.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Em said, smiling as he did.

Kylen moved to hug the beggar as Stanley yanked Sir Em into his own embrace. The two blonds stumbled awkwardly into each hug, but returned them gratefully. Kayin and Leopold smiled as they watched them, exchanging cheerful expressions.

“Good to see you boys make up. A reaper will make a fine addition to our revolution.” Wendenlyn then said, nodding as she did.

“How’s Tweek?” Kylen asked as he pulled away from Kenneth.

“Not sure,” She replied truthfully, “But the prince is with him. We should talk more with them in the morning. For now…I think everyone should get some sleep. Stan, Kyle. A word?”

Kenneth waved his good bye before stretching. He then grinned as Kayin took hold of his arm and Sir Em slipped back into his shadow, making sure to wink at Leopold before he did.

“Goodnight you guys.” Kylen called before following after Wendelyn.

Stanley bowed his head slightly as a way to say the same. Then, he too, followed after the witch. Wendelyn walked through the market not saying much. Both boys exchanged worried glances. Something had been on the woman’s mind and it felt serious.

Wendelyn led both boys to her cottage. She had many homes. The most used had been in South Kingdom with Stanley and now Kylen. Tonight, however, they would stay with the rebel casters.

“I’ll get right to it.” She said when the door shut, leaving her back to both. “I am with child.” Her voice lowered slightly as her hands moved to touch her still flat stomach.

Stanley swallowed hard, “Y-you’re what?”

“Stanley.” Kylen snapped.

Wendelyn sighed, “I don’t know which of you is the…” She shook her head, unable to finish.

“Wendy.” She heard Stanley say, after he had gathered himself.

Wendelyn turned around, tears filling her violet eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, walking over to her.

“We’re a family.” Kylen added, moving to her other side.

Wendelyn laughed weakly, letting the tears fall, her relief palpable. Stanley took her right hand as Kylen took her left. The two smiled at each other before looking back to Wendy. Then, the three embraced one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more days until Christmas. I hope everyone enjoys their holiday!  
> That being said, I will be taking a short hiatus for the holidays (my father is visiting).  
> However, I will update as soon as I can!  
> Thank you everyone for your support, thus far.
> 
> Long live Creek!  
> Kitty-


	11. A choice we Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!  
> I hope everyone had an amazing holiday, I know I did.  
> With this update comes some news. First, I turned the Stendyle ONESHOT into a deleted scenes series. Check it out for this chapter's sexy times. Second, I created a Tumblr account for some South Kingdom content. Mostly drawings (if I'm brave) and perhaps some extra information and stories after the fic ends. I follow lots of Creek blogs and I'd love to follow you guys, as well. I'm fairly new to the Tumbles so bare with me (and maybe lend me your aid).
> 
> Tumblr: [shinyvapor26](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shinyvapor26)
> 
> Kitty-

Morning had been but a moment away when Tweek awoke from his slumber. He sat up slowly and rubbed the empty feeling from his head. Neither nightmares nor dreams graced the blond’s memory and it left him somewhat numb. 

“Craig?” He croaked, looking around the unfamiliar room.

Craigston snored softly. The prince hadn’t been far, his back rested against the side of Tweek’s bed. The position looked far from comfortable, even with the peaceful look upon Craigston’s face. Tweek couldn’t imagine how the prince fell asleep sitting up. Then Craigston winced, as if light had just hit his eyes, though it had been from hearing his name. He turned slightly, eyes still closed.

Tweek smiled, finding the act quite adorable. 

“Y-you could have slept up here with me.” He told the raven haired boy, wrapping his arms around the prince from behind. His ears grew hot as he hid his face in the back of Craigston’s neck.

“Mm…Tweek?” Craigston’s eyes opened as he looked down to peck the forearms crossed over his chest. “Good morning.” He mumbled, drifting back toward sleep.

Tweek chuckled lightly, “You still seem tired.” He teased, nuzzling the back of Craigston’s head. “S-sorry about last night.” He added as he pulled away, but the prince grabbed onto both his arms before they parted.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, turning to crawl into bed.

Tweek blushed as the prince snuggled against his body, “I-I do.”

“Good.” He heard the prince mutter into the crook of his neck.

Their dynamic hardly seemed any different. Tweek was quite worried everything would change after confessing their feelings. Aside from being more affectionate, their closeness remained intact. It had felt as though they were together all along. Or at least, that they were meant to be.

Tweek blushed brightly at the thought.

“How did you sleep?” He heard Craigston ask, snapping him from the sap that filled his mind.

“I-I um…not sure.” Tweek replied, still trying to recall a dream.

Craigston moved to sit up, causing Tweek to squeak as he was pulled into the prince’s lap. “You didn’t toss and turn. I know that.” He pointed out, wrapping his arms around the smaller blond.

“Y-yeah. I didn’t have any nightmares but…I didn’t have any dreams either. I-I don’t know. I probably just…don’t remember.” Tweek said, frowning as he did.

“Hm. I wouldn’t like that.” Craigston replied, “Not remembering.” He added.

Tweek perked up slightly, “You don’t think it’s silly?”

“Not at all. It would bother me too. Especially, after the collar messed with your head for so long…Hard not to feel---“

“Paranoid?”

“Uneasy.” He offered.

Tweek’s body relaxed from Craigston’s words. He felt less tense and curled into the prince’s firm chest. Craigston’s breathing was gentle and hypnotic, but his heart beat faster. Tweek flushed, feeling his own heart flutter.

“W-where are the others?” He asked nervously, unsure why he even asked. In that moment, he didn’t care of anyone else but Craigston.

Craigston shrugged, “Sleeping, I assume. We’re at the caster’s base.”

“R-really?” Tweek twitched, feeling the pressure building.

“It’s alright.” The prince cooed, hugging him tighter. Tweek breathed out deeply, shuddering when he felt Craigston’s lips over his neck. The fire in his chest returned as his mind ventured back to their time outside the waterfall.

“Do you want me to mark you again?” Craigston whispered in a tone Tweek was far from used to.

“I-it’ll go a-away.” He reminded, letting his head cock back as Craigston began kissing down his neck.

“That’s not what I asked.” The prince pressed, biting his shoulder blade.

Tweek groaned with anticipation, “Yes.” He hissed, closing his eyes. Something in Tweek rattled when Craigston bit him. His body ached to turn around and push the prince against the bed. He wouldn't know what to do after that, but felt his body reacting regardless. 

Craigston smirked into Tweek’s flesh before sucking the very same spot. Tweek squirmed in Craigston’s lap, panting lightly. His hands twitched, not knowing where to go or what to do. They took to the prince’s thighs and gripped down on them, pulling at his pants. Craigston groaned into Tweek’s neck, sucking down harder. Tweek gasped as his panting increased and his own pants grew tight.

“C-craig.” He stammered to catch his breath.

“Almost done.” The prince replied in a soft tone, reserved for Tweek and Tweek alone.

“D-don’t stop.” Tweek blurted, covering his mouth after.

Craigston paused briefly, “I won’t.” He replied, planting kisses over the darkening skin. His hands moved under Tweek’s tunic, causing the blond to tremble.

Craigston held his gaze, causing Tweek to swallow hard. The uncertainty of Craigston’s next actions left the blond anxious, but he wasn’t afraid. He trusted the prince above all else and knew he wanted whatever intent his blue eyes held. As his eyelids lowered, Tweek found his own courage and kissed Craigston. The motion must have surprised the prince, for Tweek could feel his flinch. The reaction was replaced rather quickly as Craigston pulled Tweek closer.

Tweek was left dazed when Craigston pulled away. He removed his tunic before helping Tweek out of his own. Tweek flushed. It hadn’t been the first time either boy saw each other’s bare chest, but being intimate made even the simplest of things taboo.

Craigston took a moment to look Tweek over and Tweek did the same. He then ran his hand over Tweek’s neck and across the side of his face. He grabbed some of his blond hair and firmly kissed him. Tweek moaned out loudly, vibrating Craigston’s mouth. He fell back onto his elbows, but never broke their kiss. His body sparked and he worried he might hurt Craigston, but the prince only pushed himself harder against him.

Wendelyn shot up and awake as threads of magic pulled at her very being. There was a quick and sudden quake, but it passed as quickly as it came. Stanley moved onto his feet, pulling a dagger out from under his pillow. When his half asleep brain realized the threat had left, he slipped back into bed. Kylen was sitting up, but relaxed when the knight buried his face into his lap. Wendelyn let out a soft sigh, rubbing Stanley’s back. She then looked to Kylen and he flashed her a supportive smile.

“Tweek?” He questioned out loud and she nodded her head.

Wendelyn moved to get out of bed, but Kylen grabbed her arm.

“Kyle?” She questioned, looking back at him.

“Allow me.” He replied gently, releasing her to slip out of bed. “Stay with Stanley.” He added, pulling his clothes back on.

“My witch sisters will call for me soon.” She supplied, but was waved off.

“Sleep until they do.” Kylen offered.

Wendelyn chuckled lightly, “I’m not that pregnant, Kyle.”

“Rest.” He nearly ordered, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Wendelyn fought off a blush as the scholar pulled away. She had been used to being sexual with Kylen. Though, Stanley had always been there. Sometimes she would be intimate with Stanley alone, sometimes it was just Stanley and Kylen. Usually, it had been the three of them. As she watched Kylen pull away, her eyes glistened. He smiled at her and it was warm and sweet. Wendelyn couldn’t fight off the blush any longer. She looked away and smiled to herself, feeling her heart leap as it had only done for Stanley.

“I’ll be right back.” Kylen said, leaving the two.

Stanley rolled over, still barely awake. His eyes remained closed as he found his way into Wendelyn’s lap and buried his face there, “Isn’t he great?” The knight muttered, smiling against her skin.

“Yeah,” The witch practically whispered, playing in Stanley’s hair, “He really is.”

Kylen stretched once outside and glanced around. Some casters came out to investigate the quake, but most remained unbothered. It came and went after all, with no signs of an outside attack. With so many magic users in one area, there were bound to be a few hiccups. Though, Tweek had been the likely culprit; being both powerful and unstable. Kylen was half way through the market place when he realized he hadn’t known exactly where Tweek or the prince had been.

“Seriously?” He scolded himself.

“Looking for someone?” Em mused from behind.

Kylen smiled as he turned around, “Are you?”

Em shrugged, bending down to a mouse that hurried over and hopped into his hand. Kylen raised an eyebrow as he watched the two. The mouse squeaked, its small beady eyes turning purple as Sir Em’s irises flashed violet. He smiled and set the animal back down before walking. Kylen glanced down at the creature before following after the reaper. He couldn’t help but think about all the rats in the dungeon and wondered if they were spies.

“Tweek and the prince are this way.” Em informed.

Kylen squinted his eyes, “You spy on us?”

“Not regularly.” Was his reply, leaving Kylen displeased.

The cottage was close enough. Once there, Kylen went to knock. Em hadn’t been as courteous, however. A mischievous grin crossed his face, then he passed through the wooden door like a phantom in the night.

“H-hey!” Kylen called out, only to sigh.

Craigston tossed a blanket over Tweek as he moved off the bed and grabbed his sword. He frowned upon seeing the reaper, who had been eyeing them.

“I approve.” Em mused as his eyes traveled downward.

“Get out.”

“A-ahh! O-oh gods!”

Kylen opened the door, grabbed Sir Em, and yanked him back outside. Once the door shut, the reaper laughed. He looked the scholar over and noticed his reddening face.

“What’s wrong, Kyle? I thought you would be used to seeing another man’s---”

“Ken.” He snapped.

The reaper smirked, “Well. I suppose that explains the ground shaking.” He said with a wink and Kylen rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Kylen pointed out.

Em shrugged, “They were finished. At least it wasn’t during.” He debated.

Kylen covered his face, “Just…stop talking.”  

Craigston stepped out of the cottage a moment later, fully clothed. He glared slightly at the two, but turned his attention to Tweek when the blond stumbled outside. Tweek couldn’t look at either as he took to Craigston’s arm.  

“M-morning.” He squeaked.

“Must have been a good one.” Em replied smoothly, causing Tweek to blush brightly and Craigston to glare.

Kylen nudged Em sharply before flashing both a smile, “Good morning you two. Glad to see you’re both alright.”

“…why wouldn’t we be?” Craigston asked, frowning some.

Tweek started to shake, “T-the quake. I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t…mean---”

“It’s alright.” Kylen assured, “No one was hurt. We were only worried about you.” He assured, softly.

Tweek hugged Craigston’s arm on reflex as he buried his face into it, “T-the cottage too. Is um…”

“It’s a little damaged.” Craigston supplied, shamelessly.

Tweek turned red, “WEDIDNTHAVESEX…y-yet.”

Sir Em raised an eyebrow, “That so? What a shame.” He then smirked, “What did you manage to do?” He asked, far too invested in their love life. “I can see you marked your territory well, Tweekers.” He teased, eyeing Craigston’s hickey.

“That’s none of your business, reaper.” The prince shot back, wrapping his arm around Tweek. Tweek’s hiding shifted out of the arm and into Craigston’s side.

“Well,” Kylen began after clearing his throat. “I’m glad everything’s alright. The Mothers want to speak with Tweek. We can eat afterward, if you like.”

“M-mothers?” Tweek questioned, peeking out from the prince.

“Wendelyn is one of them. And my cousin is another.” Craigston informed, trying to ease some of his nerves. “The third is a stuck up princess.”

Tweek looked up at him, “Your cousin is a caster?”

“Apparently.” He replied flatly, still bothered by the information. He didn’t care that his cousin was a caster or that he had been related to one. Tweek could sense that the prince felt betrayed. The same betrayal he must have experienced when he figured out Tweek had magic before Tweek could tell him himself.

Craigston felt Tweek’s grip on him tighten and glanced down. His eyes asked if he were alright even as he asked, “Are you hungry?”

“O-oh, ah! Y-yes. I um…very.” He realized, looking down shyly.

“Must have worked up quite an appetite.” Sir Em pointed out, smugly.

Kylen held his forehead, “Please ignore him.”

“Done.” Cragiston grunted, tugging Tweek away.

“Oh! This way.” Kylen piped, moving ahead to lead the way.

Sir Em snickered as he threw his arms behind his head. He, like the others, then followed Kylen toward the castle. Tweek was in awe during the entire walk. He examined everything with wide eyes filled with wonder, clinging to Craigston as they went. Through the prince’s peripheral he watched Tweek’s amazement, trying to remain stoic, but affection shined through his eyes.

The castle may have been smaller than Craigston’s, but where it lacked in size it made up for in style. Each and every stone was decorated with intricate carvings, all of which appeared to be made by hand. The interior of the castle was lined with lush fur and floating torches. The walls held paintings of creatures from old. Tweek recognized the elves and faeries, but there had been many he couldn’t even dream up.

Another glaring difference, had been the lack of people. Craigston was used to servants roaming about and guards on every floor. Yet, the castle had been deserted, alive with magic and magic alone. Kylen stopped in front of a large door. The wood appeared simple enough, but Tweek could almost feel it breathing. It reminded him of the trees he once spoke with as a child.

Craigston felt Tweek’s grip tighten again and touched his back. The feeling sent a rush through the blond who was still recovering from their morning of passion. He flushed as the prince rubbed his back gently to soothe him.

“Ready?” Craigston asked, lowly.

Tweek grimaced, “I-I ought to be.”

The prince moved his hand from Tweek’s back to offer it. Tweek looked between Craigston and his hand before taking it and smiled. Sir Em was heard snickering until Kylen roughly nudged him.

“Right this way.” The scholar announced as the door opened.

Within the room, Wendelyn sat at the head of a long wooden table. Stanley stood behind her chair with Princess Barbara and Craigston’s cousin at either side of said table. With a warm smile, Wendelyn beckoned for the group to join them. Kylen walked over with Sir Em close behind. Craigston exchanged a look with Tweek and only walked over when he felt the blond’s grip upon his hand relax.

“Good morning.” Wendelyn said as her witch sisters nodded their heads, as if to say the same.

“G-good morning um Mothers?” Tweek squeaked, squeezing down on Craigston’s hand from under the table. The prince squeezed back gently, keeping his eyes on the young women.

Rebecca smirked ever so slightly, “Isn’t he a doll.”

Tweek noticed the girl’s red hair and was reminded of the king. He assumed the girl had been the cousin Craigston spoke of.

“Easy, Red.” Craigston warned and his cousin rolled her eyes.

“Shall we get started?” Barbara asked, looking to Wendelyn.

Wendelyn nodded, “Tweek,” She began, grabbing his attention. “With your collar removed, your powers have not only unlocked but have increased. Have you regained all your memories, as well?”

Tweek chewed on the inside of his cheek, unable to grab at his hair with Craigston close by. His grip tightened at the question, but loosened as he answered.

“I-I…have. My name is Thackeray, son of Richeton. When I was little, I once spoke with creatures from other u-um---”

“Realms.” Em offered.

Tweek nodded, “One was a-a dragon. I’m…I’m a dragon?”

“Dragonborn.” Kylen corrected.

“Thackeray?” Craigston questioned.

Tweek glanced to Craigson and nodded, “T-that’s my…birth name. My parents sold me and it was the first thing I forgot.” His eyelids lowered, looking away from the prince to stare down. “I don’t know why. I don’t think I’ll ever know why. I-I know I’m different but…did they never love me? W-why wasn’t I good enough for them...”

“Tweek…” Kylen frowned as the table grew solemn.

“Your name is Tweek.” Craigston replied, pulling Tweek’s eyes back up with his words. “Your parents don’t deserve to have a son. They don’t deserve you.”

Tweek shuddered a breath, eyes filling with grateful tears. “Craig…”

Wendelyn smiled, “Family doesn’t equate to blood. It’s love, Tweek.”

Stanley and Kylen flashed each other fond expressions, before looking to Wendelyn, as she touched her stomach and smiled at them.

“This is all VERY touching.” Barbara interrupted, shooting Rebecca a look. The red head was still swooning, but cleared her throat.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Tweek. My birth name is Rebecca, but please call me Red. And this Barbara or Bebe, if you will. I’ll get right to it. Will you join in our fight against South Kingdom? You too, Craig.”

“F-fight?” Tweek felt Craigston’s grip tighten slightly and frowned. “Do we have to fight?” He asked, ignoring his own hesitance. “I-I mean…I know the king wants me dead but-but…can we not reason with him?”

“There’s no reasoning with my father.” Craigston replied sharply and before anyone else could speak. “Magic is forbidden in South Kingdom. That will not change unless…”

“Unless?” Tweek asked, turning to the prince.

Craigston’s expression fell grim, “I usurp the king.”

“Usurp? C-craig no! You can’t kill your own father! I-I know you two have your differences but…but that would eat you alive. Y-You can’t---I won’t let you.”

“Tweek.” Craigston frowned when he felt Tweek rip his hand away.

“This isn’t your fight.” He went on to say.

“It became my fight the second you were involved,” Craigston retorted, his voice stern. “My father threatened your life. He will not stop until you’re dead. Yes, he’s my father. Yes, it will most likely affect me to end his life…but I will. Given the choice, Tweek. I would choose you. Every. Time.”

The room fell silent as Craigston and Tweek held equally stubborn gazes.

“Now kiss.” Em whispered, breaking the tension.

Tweek went to speak, his cheeks burning, but then the castle rattled. Eyes fell on him, but he looked just as shocked. Craigston shot Stanley a look, and the knight rushed toward the embrasure.

“We’re under attack!” He shouted, spinning back around. “Kyle, get the Mothers below ground.”

“Stan!” Wendelyn objected, “We can---”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” He shot back and Kylen nodded.

“Come on, Wendy. Bebe, Red. You too.” The scholar said as he led the three over to a bookcase. It opened a moment later, revealing a hidden passage way.

“Stay close to me.” Craigston told Tweek.

Tweek pouted in response, “I-I was gonna say that.”

The two then smiled at each other, allowing their stubbornness slip away.

“You can fuck later. Right now, we have to fight.” Em said, moving over to the embrasure’s ledge. “Meet you down there.” He added playfully, falling backward.

Craigston scowled as the reaper left them, but even Stanley noticed his blush and smirked.

“This way.” The knight informed, leading the two out.

Tweek’s body shook, though it was hard to tell if it had been from the attack or Sir Em’s comment, “W-who’s attacking?”

“Father?” Craigston questioned out loud, “How could he find this place?”

“D-do you think Clyde and Tolkien are alright?” Tweek asked, worry hanging on every word. “S-stripe!” He shouted, adding to his list of fears.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Craigston replied confidently, though the back of his mind did hold onto some concern.

Stanley pulled out his sword the moment they stepped outside. Indeed, it had been the king’s men attacking. A large cavalry of men, but only a portion of South Kingdom’s true army. Two catapults were at the back line being prepped for a second assault on the castle’s walls. Archers readied their bows as the knights surrounded the group. In the distance, the market place could be seen ablaze with casters risking their own lives to put out the flames.

Craigston removed his sword, slipping in front of Tweek protectively.

“There he is! Kill him!”

His eyes narrowed, “Stand down.” The prince snapped, aiming the ice sword forward. “That’s an order.” He added, strictly.

“Sire.” A knight spoke, stepping forward. “The king has ordered your immediate rescue. You are under the beast’s spell. We have clear instructions to render you unconscious if necessary.”

“I am under no spell.” Craigston replied, throwing his sword over his shoulder. “You all have a choice. Follow me or follow my father.” He said, removing his crown. “I align myself with the magic users.”

Tweek held his breath, watching intently as the prince dropped his crown onto the ground. The knights looked uncomfortable while Craigston stabbed his blade into and through the crown.

“What say you?” He asked dully, ripping the sword from the ground.

The knights looked among each other. A few looked uncertain. Many believed Craigston was under Tweek’s spell, but Stanley’s presence caused a few to doubt. The few that had, walked toward Craigston. The first knight to speak raised his hand and made a fist. Tweek was horrified to witness the rouge knights being stabbed from and by their own comrades.

“Wrong choice.” Craigston grit as Stanley rushed forward.

“Fire at the castle!” A knight ordered the men at the catapults.

Sir Em appeared suddenly, slashing at the catapult’s attendances before taking down the heavy artillery. Large pools of darkness bled out of the catapults’ own shadows before swallowing them whole.

“Jesus Christ.” The enemy knight breathed, “Capture the prince. Kill all others!” He instructed, pulling out his sword to block Stanley’s attack.

Stanley kicked at the man’s knee, pulling back as his opponent cocked forward in pain, and slashed up his exposed chest. The enemy knight hit the ground a moment later, but Stanley didn’t linger as he attacked the nearest warriors in front of him.

The knight on the ground forced himself back onto his feet, ignoring his injuries. He shambled over to the prince, but Craigston was ready for him. He waited for an attack that never came. The man, instead, threw his body against the prince and the weight alone caused him to fall back. Tweek moved to help Craigston, but froze when the man shouted.

“Archers at the ready! Fire!”

Craigston stabbed his blade through the knight, “Tweek!”

The fallen knight used his body as a shield to protect the prince, even in death. Tweek twitched, but his fear was replaced with rage. His pupils sharpened as the air around him tightened. Multiple arrows shot toward the blond, but he didn’t move. A growl vibrated his chest and he watched as each arrow froze in midair. They smashed against his body, but shattered on impact. As the arrows fell around him, Tweek looked ahead.

His eyes leaked with frigid mist, “Y-you want me right? Leave everyone else alone!”

Craigston grunted as he tossed the man off him and moved over to Tweek. He glanced at his form briefly before looking toward the remaining knights. Sir Em had moved to take out the archers as Stanley continued to fight against the other knights.

“No, Tweek. It’s OUR fight.” Craigston said, raising his sword.

Tweek looked to him and nodded, smiling weakly. He then looked forward with determined eyes. “R-right. Let’s do it, Craig.”

Stanley hissed when he was stabbed in the shoulder, dropped his sword, caught it with his free hand and slashed his attacker back. Craigston ran over and slashed at the knight a second time, ice erupted from the metal and froze the man over upon impact.

Tweek held his chest as he felt the attack from within, “C-craig.”

Craigston glanced down at the sword before looking back at Tweek. Tweek let his surprise fall to smirk and the prince smirked back at him. He pulled Stanley behind him and breathed in deeply before slashing at the air. Tweek’s eyes lit up brightly as beams of ice shot out of Craigston’s sword and struck the entire cavalry. The men screamed, clawing at their bodies desperately while they turned to ice.

Sir Em landed by Stanley, “Not bad.” The reaper purred, looking to the prince and then Tweek. His eyes fell on Stanley next, who had been holding his shoulder, “You alright, Stan?”

“Yeah.” He replied, wincing some. “Where’s Leo?”

Sir Em raised an eyebrow, “Not far. I left Kayin with him.”

“H-he can heal you though, right?” Tweek couldn’t help but feel as though the knight’s injury was his fault, “I…I can heal too.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kylen intervened, walking over to them.

“Kyle.” Stanley noted, flinching as Wendelyn hurried over to hug him. He winced and she pulled away to smack his stable shoulder.

“Reckless!” She snapped.

Craigston put his sword away, “Why shouldn’t Tweek heal? He’s already healed me.” The prince pointed out, frowning some.

“Because dragons don’t have the ability to heal as conventionally thought. Healers manipulate cells to self-regenerate.” Kylen replied, holding his elbows as he eyed Stanley’s wound. “What Tweek did…he gave you some of his energy. Since dragons can naturally selfheal.” He explained.

“T-that’s why I…passed out.” Tweek realized, frowning when he felt Craigston’s eyes on him.

“I assume too much energy lost would kill him?”

“Theoretically. Yes.” Kylen replied.

“Don’t do it again.” Craigston told Tweek with a voice like stone.

If the prince was hurt, Tweek wouldn’t hesitate to heal him again. Perhaps, he could hold back for small wounds; for there were plenty of casters. Including, Leopold who already helped heal Tweek. If Craigston was fatally wounded, however, there would be no other option. He felt the prince looking to him and cowed, unable to make eye contact.

“And the magic from his sword?” Stanley wondered, hugging Wendelyn back with his free arm. Her cheeks were puffed in annoyance and worry.

“I-I can feel it…when he---…”

“You’re connected. The sword is made from Tweek and, now that you have his energy within you, you can tap into his powers.” Kylen provided, “At least…that’s what I can only guess.”

Craigston glanced down at his sword before looking back to Tweek, “Does it hurt you?” He asked, walking over to the blond. “I’ll stop if it does.” He added, reaching to remove the sword from his belt.

Tweek placed his hand over his, “It doesn’t hurt.” He assured, “I-It just feels like I’m using magic. But also I…I can feel your emotions as you use it. It’s…nice. To be that connected.”

“I can feel yours too.” Craigston confessed, taking Tweek’s hand in his own.

Tweek squeezed, growing flustered.

“Seriously. Just fuck already.” Em said, shaking his head at them.

Stanley laughed, grunting as his shoulder ached.

Wendelyn pouted, “Where’s Leo?”

“You can’t heal him?” Craigston asked, shooting Em a glare as Tweek buried his face sheepishly into the prince’s arm.

“I use hex magic. I’m unable to heal.” She replied with low eyes.

“More are coming!” Rebecca shouted from the castle.

Barbara pointed toward the waterfall, “We have to close the gateway!”

Sir Em frowned, turning sharply. Back at the market place, Leopold and Kayin helped a group of casters tame the spreading fire. Men on horseback rushed through the waterfall, some with swords and others with javelins. They trampled through the wreckage and against the casters within it.

“We have to go!” Leopold shouted as he rushed over to Kayin.

“I-I’m almost done.” She winced, moving her hands around each other as water manifested. Along with a few other casters, Kayin used her arcane abilities to finish putting out the flames.

A horse cried out nearby, causing Leopold to spin around. The horseman had Kayin in his sights and his sword drawn. Leopold looked nervously between the two before rushing in front of the younger girl.

Kayin smiled, “I’m done---Leo!?”

Leopold knocked Kayin to the ground as the knight slashed his back. He stumbled forward, but stopped himself; as to not step on Kenneth’s sister. Kayin looked up mortified, but Leopold flashed her a warm smile.

“Step aside, physician. All casters are to be eliminated!”

Leopold turned back around, frowning. “Aw jeez. That’s not very nice.” He said, wincing as a breeze hit his open wound. “I’m a caster too, ya know. Eliminate me instead.”

The man frowned, “I’ll eliminate you both!” He shouted, slashing at Leopold’s front. Kayin screamed when the healer fell backwards. She shot up and caught him, staring blankly at his bleeding face. Blood gushed out of the young physician’s eye. Kayin’s eyes widened as she watched Leopold, completely petrified.

“You’re next, little girl.”

“L-leo?” Kayin’s eyes filled with tears, tears that burned away as her irises started to glow. She shot the man a look and his horse bucked slightly.

Sir Em emerged out of Leopold’s shadow, smoking with rage. The horse bucked harder and its rider fell. The man grunted, dropping his sword. Em ignored the horse and walked over to the fallen knight. The knight flinched up, pleading as he reached for his sword. The reaper stepped on the man’s hand. He reached down and took the sword, eyeing Leopold’s blood over the blade.

Em’s jaw clenched, “You tried to kill my sister.”

“I-it’s my orders!” The man tried to plea.

“You hurt my new friend.” He added, pressing the tip of the sword against the man’s neck.

The knight went to beg, but swallowed his cowardice. His body visibly shook, but his eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, reaper. I’ll see you in hell.” He spat.

“Look away, Kayin.” Em said before stabbing down and into the knight’s neck. He twisted the blade on the way down and ripped it out carelessly, his eyes void. The blank look in the reaper’s eyes faded, however, when Leopold groaned. 

“Leo!” Kayin cried, helping him sit up.

Em dropped the sword to rush over to the two. He touched Kayin’s face briefly, making sure she was alright. He then looked down to Leopold, who could no longer open his left eye. The healer smiled, cheerful even in his fatal state.

“M-my back hurts.” He informed. “Is Kayin alright?” He asked Em.

The reaper stared at Leopold in disbelief. 

“I’m alright, Leo.” She supplied when Sir Em could not.

“Leo!” A few of the others cried, hurrying over.

Kylen bent down to examine the wound, “He’s losing too much blood.” The scholar said, looking toward the waterfall. “And more are coming.”

“The Mothers can seal the entrance, but we’ll need to hold the line until then.” Stanley said as he wrapped his shoulder with a torn piece of cloth.

“Get everyone to the castle.” Craigston ordered, “And to safety. Marshall, Reaper, Tweek, and I will keep them from breaching the base any further.” He added, courtly.

Tweek caught a chill listening to the prince speak with such authority. Though, Craigston hated public speaking. He brushed passed the feeling to lead his group toward the entrance. Stanley kissed Kylen quickly and whispered for him to pass it along to Wendelyn. The witch in question had already made her way back into the castle and joined her sisters in arms. Sir Em watched the three go before moving back over to his sister with Leopold. Kylen helped Kayin stand Leopold up, each draped an arm over their shoulder.

“Hang in there, Butter tart. I still need to make it up to you, saving my sister and all.” He said sweetly as he pet Leopold’s head.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him.” Kylen assured and Kayin nodded her agreement, “I’m not much of a healer, but I can at least help Leo heal himself.” The scholar said, hopeful.

“Don’t be too long.” Kayin told her brother, “And be careful.”

“This won’t take long.” Em replied. “The other me is looking for the mole.” He added, more to Kylen.

Kylen didn’t seem surprised in the least. It had made sense that someone leaked information about the caster base or even lead them straight to it. The question was, who could it have been?

With that, the reaper waved goodbye and shimmered away. He reappeared a moment later out of Stanley’s shadow. Craigston took a step back to allow Stanley to take lead. Though the knight had yet seen war, he still had the most experience in battle. Tweek stuck close to the prince’s side as they walked. In the distance, the boys could hear marching.

“They have a narrow passage.” Stanley spoke up, “We have the advantage.” He said, moving to one side. “Sire, at my left. Tweek stay in the middle. Ken, distraction?”

Sir Em smirked, “My favorite.”

“Alright men. On my mark.” Stanley readied his sword and Craigston had done the same.

The prince glanced to Tweek and the blond shot him a reassuring smile. Craigston felt uneasy with him being left in the open. He understood Tweek’s power well enough, but he still worried.

Stanley listened, “You’re up.” He told the reaper, who slipped inside.

Confused shuffling and muffled voices echoed before a chilling silence. Then, a barrage of horrid screaming that kept all three boys on edge. They were certain, however, the reaper needed little aid. A ripple of magic cascaded over and down the entrance during the commotion. For, at the castle’s crenel, the three witches chanted in unison.

A few knights rushed out of the gateway, but Stanley slashed along with Craigston. The two cut down any men that managed to slip out of Em’s grasp. Tweek watched the two, but remained otherwise focused on his own task. A few horsemen slipped through as both Stanley and Craigston hesitated to strike the animals. Tweek didn’t wish to harm the stallions either, but he also couldn’t allow them to pass by.

His pupils turned to thin slits and he let out a roar.

Both horses bucked, knocking their riders off, which allowed Stanley and Craigston the opportunity to take them out. In the distance behind them, the witches stopped chanting. A barrier became visible, glittering over the entryway. Em emerged out of Tweek’s shadow and chuckled as he wiped the blood off his gloves, patting his fellow blond’s back.

“Free horses?” The reaper mused, darkly.


	12. The retribution of a Few

Kenneth’s bare feet were swollen by the time he made it back to South Kingdom. There were plenty of knights along the way, but none seemed to notice him. No one ever noticed the poor, dirty, beggar. It had been one of his many talents. Slipping into the background, not being seen; like his shadows. The difference was, Kenneth was not a shadow. He wasn’t transparent or camouflaged. He was just invisible because no one cared. Because he was worthless. Not that the grim minded, he had his sister and his friends. Sometimes it didn’t feel as if his friends noticed him. Sometimes he thought his talent seeped into them. They had their own lives, of course. Kenneth would always be their friend, but he wasn’t their family or their lover. Though, he was no saint. Should the choice ever arise to save one of his friends or Kayin, he would choose his sister without hesitation.

He still loved his friends. They could love him less and he would remain loyal. Kenneth didn’t care about the world around him or politics. The only reason he had been involved in the revolution at all, was because his friends were. That and attacking a base filled with a reaper’s loved ones basically sealed the kingdom’s fate.

Kenneth reached the tavern and was tempted to go inside. Drink a bit and maybe fuck some wenches. He debated if he had time or not before deciding to go in. Not for the women, but to speak with Cartesian. Most of the casters retreated back to base when Tweek originally revealed his powers. If there had been any remaining, Cartesian would know. He knew things like that. Things that didn’t seem important until you needed to give him coin for the information.

The tavern was dimly lit and lacking of life when he entered. Cartesian sat alone, eating and drinking. There was an extra tankard at the table, either for another person or Cartesian was waiting for him. Kenneth approached, light on his feet and leaving no sound behind. He plopped down at the table and greeted the mercenary with his usual perky grunt.

Cartesian looked up from stuffing his face, “If it isn’t Kenny.” He said, mouth full of partially chewed food.

‘Hello, lardass.’ Kenneth would attempt to say as only muffled noises came out. Thankfully, his closest friends could always understand him.

“And where have you been? The butt buddies ran off with prince asshole and Leo. Going after that crazy Tweek kid.” He bitched and Kenneth just listened, “There’s a hefty bounty on them. Dead or alive. Not the prince. They, unfortunately, still want him alive.”

Kenneth looked down at the free drink on the table. He nodded his head as Cartesian began ranting, reaching slowly for the tankard. Cartesian hadn’t noticed, or perhaps he didn’t care. Then, Kenneth drank and the mercenary fell quiet. He set his food down and wiped his mouth.

“You really are dense, aren’t you? You ALL are.” Cartesian laughed, “Did you really think I didn’t know about the caster’s base? About YOU.”

Kenneth froze. His hand fell limp, dropping the drink. His eyes shot to his friend, wide and then narrowing with realization.

‘You?’ His grunts managed.

“Yes, me.” Cartesian mused, resting his elbows on the table. “Did you not hear me? The amount of coin I’ll receive from this. I could build my own kingdom.” He exclaimed, his eyes practically gleaming.

Kenneth panted, trying with difficulty to keep his body upward. His shadows swirled, but he couldn’t form anything with them. ‘They…re…you…frie…ds.’ His muffling forced out. If only he could use his real voice. In that moment, he wanted to take Cartesian’s life.

“Friends?” The mercenary chuckled bitterly, “What are we ten? Grow up, Ken.”

‘What di…yo…do…me…?’ The reaper fell face first into the table and groaned, ‘E-eric.’ He struggled to keep his eyes opened, ‘If you…’ There was a long pause before Kenneth’s struggling ceased, ‘Kill you…!’ He warned before collapsing.

“What was that?” Cartesian asked, taking to his food again.

“O-oh gods. Ken-ken-kenneth?” James stammered, hobbling over.

Cartesian sighed, “Seriously? I paid for the tavern to be empty!” He snapped, moving out of his seat.

The jester looked Kenneth over before turning to Cartesian, “E-eric. Kenneth is…is he okay? What happened?”

“He’s fine.” Cartesian purred, “Just sleeping.”

James looked skeptical, watching the mercenary move closer. He glanced back to Kenneth and frowned, “Ericson you-you should stay back.”

“Oh?” Cartesian asked, looking him over dully. “Will something bad happen if I don’t?”

James’ face scrunched up, “What-what did you-you do to him?”

“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” He replied, smoothly.

“I don’t believe you.” James huffed, poking his stomach with one of his walking staffs.

Cartesian frowned, “Ey!”

“I said-said stay back.” He reminded, growing angry.

“That’s it you cripple piece of shi---!?” Cartesian moved to unsheathe his sword, but James belted out a note without warning. The mercenary was thrown both off guard and off his feet. He flung back and hit the stage at the other end of the room.

James breathed in deeply before turning back to the unconscious reaper, “O-Oh man. How am I-am I gonna get you out of here?” He asked Kenneth, as if the boy could answer.

Cartesian growled, moving back onto his feet. “You little snake!” He snapped, pulling out his sword.

James sighed, “Alright.” He mumbled, thinking to himself.

As Cartesian rushed him, James pulled out his lute. He started to sing as he played and Cartesian was tackled away suddenly. James remained where he had been and continued with his song. Kenneth rose off the mercenary, reached into his cloak, and pulled out a dagger.

“Kenny?” Cartesian gaped. “But I!” He went to protest, blocking the reaper’s next attack. It was then that he noticed Kenneth’s eyes were still closed and his movements were irregular.

James started to sway as he got into his song and Kenneth moved with increased speed. Cartesian cursed both under his breath and loudly. He blocked here and there, but was otherwise overcome. Kenneth made swallow slashes over Ericson’s forearms and thighs.

“I don’t-don’t wanna kill you, Car-Car-Cartesian.” James called out, breaking the song only for a moment.

Cartesian took advantage, kicking Kenneth away with a sharp hiss as his thigh burned. “Lying sack of shit!” The mercenary spat back.

“Just tell me what’s-what’s going on. Or let me leave with Ken.”

“How about neither?” Cartesian snapped, slashing at Kenneth’s chest.

James strummed roughly and Kenneth back flipped. He landed on the table behind him with less grace and moved back to attack when James continued his song. Cartesian whistled before blocking the puppet’s strike. The tavern owner emerged from the back, accompanied by two brawly men and a tough looking maiden.

“Extra coin for whoever kills the cripple!”

The rowdy group looked each other over. The girl shrugged as the men grinned and without any more convincing, they were headed straight for James. James took a step back, shifting his song. Kenneth jumped away from attacking Cartesian and landed in front of the bard.

“Time to g-g-go.”

“I don’t think so!” The wench shouted, rushing over.

James flinched, fumbling with his lute. He started playing again, just in time, as the girl zeroed in on them. Kenneth blocked her fist with his free hand and twisted. She winced, but pushed through the pain to kick the reaper below the belt. Pulling back, she ripped her hand away and decked Kenneth across the face.

One of the men laughed as he flipped the table closest to James over.

“My food!” Cartesian cried.

The bard fell back, dropping his lute. Kenneth hadn’t felt any of the pain he received, but dropped to the ground unresponsive when the music ended.

The second brute stomped over to James as he was on the ground. Cartesian laughed, leaning back against the bar to watch. James winced when he was lifted up by the collar, but he didn’t wait to be assaulted. Instead, the bard belted out another note.

“This again!?” Cartesian screamed, holding onto the bar for support.

The maiden crossed her arms as she was thrown back, but the first brute grabbed her as he kept his own footing. The man holding James, dropped him on reflex. James crawled over to his lute and started to play. A string had been broken, but he powered through. Kenneth’s body jerked back to disillusioned life. He lunged over to the nearest brute, stabbing him in his thick neck. The man wailed, reaching for the reaper. Kenneth was grabbed and tossed away before the brute fell onto his knees. He growled into a gargle, drowning in his own blood. The maiden let out a battle cry, rushing over. The other brute followed her. As Kenneth returned, he kicked a table across the room and into the woman. Then, he slid under the brute’s legs and slashed at his ankles. When he came back up, he stabbed into the maiden. The girl moved her arm in the way of the attack, allowing the blade to dig into her forearm rather than her chest.

Kenneth went to rip his dagger away, but the wench grabbed at his wrist and held him in place. The two fought for dominancy, the blade falling out during the struggle. They both turned for the dagger, but the girl shot back and slammed her skull against the reaper’s forehead. When Kenneth stumbled back, she dove for the blade on the ground. He kicked at her face, but she rolled out of the way. Coming back up, the deadly maiden slashed at Kenneth’s stomach.

Cartesian grit his teeth, moving around the commotion and toward James. James had been focusing on the battle and didn’t notice the mercenary’s approach. Luckily, the floor board creaked. James turned around just as Cartesian swung his sword. Blocking with one of his walking staffs, James used his other to knock Cartesian out.

“Screw you, cripple.” Ericson choked, falling to the floor.

The bard smiled triumphantly. He opened his mouth to make a joke about the fallen mercenary’s mother, but was hit suddenly from behind. The tavern wench cracked her neck and stretched before moving over to Cartesian.

“Looks like you’ll be paying **me** extra.” She mused, tossing Kenneth’s body beside the bard.

 

The caster’s base suffered minimal damage and few casualties. Back at the castle, Leopold was treated along with Stanley’s shoulder. Kylen found elven scrolls that had come in handy, thanks to Tweek’s grasp on the ancient language. Leopold’s wounds closed, but he lost sight in his left eye. A long scar adorned his back with a smaller but more prominent scar over his blinded eye.  

Em bent down to Leopold as he sat up.

“Feeling better, Butter tart?” He asked, eyeing his eye.

Leopold shrank, moving his hand to cover his eye, but the reaper pulled his hand away.

“No need to be shy, Sweets. It looks nice on you.” He purred, running the tip of his finger over Leopold’s scar.

“What um happened?” The healer hiccupped, blushing brightly. “I-is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine, Leo.” Wendelyn assured, “We’re glad you’re alright, as well. The king’s men are gone and we’ve put up a barrier. For now…we are all safe.”

Leopold peeked up at Em before looking down, timidly. “Aw shucks. That’s good to hear.”

“So who do you want killed?” Em asked, plopping down beside him. “I already killed the man who hurt you.” He informed, casually.  

Leopold looked to the reaper, puzzled. “Killed?” He repeated, at a loss.

“I owe you one for saving my sister.” He reminded, twirling a piece of Leopold’s bright yellow hair.

“I-I uh…I don’t want anyone killed.” He squeaked, staring down. “You don’t have to owe me anything.” He added, looking back to the reaper and smiling warmly. “I like Kayin. I didn’t save her for you.”

Sir Em was momentarily stunned. When he came to, he chuckled lightly. “You’re one of a kind.” The shadow mused, leaning back. “Alright then. I will make it up to you some other way.”

Leopold gasped suddenly, as if he had solved some kind of arduous riddle, “We could have a picnic. I like picnics!”

“A picnic?” Em cocked his brow, “You want to go on a picnic…with me?”

Leopold smiled, “Well yeah. Kayin can come too.” He added, sweetly.

Stanley and Kylen both smirked when Em grew flustered. He shrugged the look away, however, as he replied in a monotone voice.

“Sure. Why not?”

Leopold smiled again and it could melt even the coldest of hearts.

Em smiled back briefly, “After the war, of course.” He noted, ruffling up Leopold’s hair.

Leopold chuckled and tried pushing the reaper away, but he went incorporeal.

Craigston whispered something to Tweek, who burst with laughter. He covered his mouth quickly, hiding his face in the prince’s arm a second later. Craigston smirked, wrapping his arm around the blond.

Stanley cleared his throat, “We should take this moment to gather our bearings. Eat and rest. Then, perhaps hold a meeting on our next course of action. I’m sure there’s a camp of knights on the other side of the waterfall simply waiting.”

“The barrier will hold for the night.” Wendelyn joined in, “We can prepare an attack for dawn.”

Stanley looked around the room before spotting a map hanging on the wall. Walking over, he ripped it down, spreading it across the large wooden table. The knight looked everything over before speaking again.

“The camp will be just outside the cave.” He pointed out.

“We can use arcane casters to manipulate the cave.” Kylen figured, walking over.

“Interesting.” Em claimed, shimmering away from Leopold. He then reappeared by his two friends. “A surprise attack? Fun.”

Craigston and Tweek exchanged glances before walking over together, “The archers need to be taken out.” The prince stated, “One burning arrow in the air and the location will be swarmed.”

“I-I can make it rain.” Tweek offered.

Stanley thought on it, “Too unpredictable.”

“If he can focus droplets, it will work.” Kylen countered.

Tweek bit his lower lip, “I-I mean…”

“You can do it.” Craigston said, placing his hand on Tweek’s back.

Sir Em winked, “If there are any left.”

Stanley chuckled, “Right.”

Wendelyn smiled at the group, “Well. Let us eat and rest. We can reconvene later and attack at first light.”

“You did say you were hungry.” Craigston recalled, looking to Tweek. “You know…before all the bloodshed.” He added, flatly.

“Craig.” Tweek practically scolded, but the prince only shrugged.

The witches stayed in the castle along with Stanley and Kylen as Sir Em brought Leopold to Kayin’s cottage. Craigston and Tweek decided to explore the caster’s base more, picking up food along the way. The day concluded peacefully, regardless of all the carnage. The bodies were all buried and, at night, the market place was alive with dancing. The casters mourned their dead by celebrating their life. It was rather unique and Craigston found he preferred it. He was reminded of his mother and sister’s funeral.

“Craig?” Tweek piped up, tugging on his sleeve.

Craigston sat on a log beside Tweek, his arm wrapped around the blond’s shoulders. They were watching a large pyre and casters dancing around it, “This is nice.” He replied, pulling Tweek closer to his frame. Tweek blushed, but didn’t protest. Snuggling closer, his eyes shut and he agreed with a smile on his face.

That night, everyone met back at the castle. They went over the plan once more before parting to sleep.

“Sweet dreams, everyone.” Wendelyn said, smiling as they left the room.

For their last night at the base, everyone was led to rooms within the castle. Tweek clung to Craigston’s arm while they walked through the halls. It was strange to recall the prince’s castle as he walked through the old elven one. Tweek wondered if anyone else had known. His mind wandered as he thought about the king and what he must have thought. His son was bewitched by a demon, perhaps.

Craigston looked around their room and shrugged. It would do, but he missed his own room. Not because he cared much for material things, but because it was his. Tweek’s art decorated his walls. The air in the room smelt of mint and coffee beans and cavy fur. He missed hearing Tolkien arguing outside his door with Clydesdale, missed Stripe’s heavy breathing as he slept rebelliously upon his pillow.

“C-craig.”

Craigston snapped out of his own mind, “Yeah? What is it, honey?”

Tweek blushed, though it had been the second time Craigston referred to him as such, “This may be u-um the last time we…we might not get NNGH another chance to…”

“Tweek, breathe. What is it?” The prince asked softly, taking the boy’s hand in his own. Tweek squeezed, suddenly unable to breathe. He tried catching his breath as Craigston had suggested.

Craigston frowned, moving the two over to the bed. Tweek sat down beside him before crawling into his lap. Craigston stifled a blush and the feeling in between his legs to hold the shaking boy.

“I-I want to be with you.” He confessed, voice cracking.

“You are with me.” Craigston replied.

Tweek hid his face in Craigston’s chest, “N-not what I mean, Craig.” He muttered.

“What do you mean then?” He asked, simply.

Tweek steadied his breathing and the prince was patient with him. “We’re about to-to fight an army. I-I mean, yeah it’s just a camp. But then it’s a castle a-and your father’s army. Oh gods! And we-you-me…this could be our last night together.”

“Tweek.” Craigston interjected, lifting his chin up. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promised, “We protect each other, remember?”

“I want to be with you, Craig.”  Tweek pushed, his voice dropping into a slight whisper. “I-in case…” He shook his head as his face started to heat up, “C-can w-we?”

Craigston furrowed his brow, trying to dissect Tweek’s ramblings as he studied the blond’s face. Then, realization hit him like a bull. The tips of Craigston’s ears burned the moment he deduced what Tweek had been talking about.

“Tweek.”

Tweek shut his eyes tight, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Craigston looked away, “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes!” Tweek practically shouted, eyes opening back up.

The prince smiled, looking back and cupping Tweek’s face.

“W-what if I…I’m worried I might cause another earthquake.” He confessed, eyelids lowering as he looked deep into Craigston’s dark blue eyes.

“You just need to focus, right? So focus on me. Don’t take your eyes off me, okay?” The prince spoke with a soothing but sultry voice. Their lips met a moment later, but neither closed their eyes.

The next morning, everyone awoke to a large feast. They broke bread and spoke as if the future hadn’t been uncertain. Friends laughed as lovers sat beside each other, holding hands under the table. They went over their plan after breakfast before departing.

Sir Em objected to his sister joining the other arcane casters, but Kayin wanted to aid in their cause; and by the gods if Cormick’s weren’t stubborn. Leopold was given an elven staff to help cast healing spells as Kylen stocked up on scrolls. Stanley protested against Wendelyn fighting, but the witch could not be swayed.

“I will stand with my people, Stan.” She stated, firmly.

Kylen didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t argue either. “I will stay at her side.” He assured the knight, “Nothing will happen to Wendy or our child.” He promised.

“C-child?” Tweek flinched.

Wendelyn smiled, “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” She assured the room, “Now then. Is everyone ready? The first battle will only call for a few of you.”

“Are we honestly side stepping you being WITH CHILD.” Barbara gaped.

Rebecca sighed blissfully, “I’m going to be the most amazing aunt.”

“Ladies. Focus.” Wendelyn snapped, rolling her eyes.

“We are focusing. Just on the wrong thing.” Her friend retorted.

Wendelyn sighed, “Alright. Everyone get ready and be careful.”

Stanley kissed Wendelyn and then Kylen before leading the way. The act was hardly surprising, yet everyone had to take a minute to absorb it. The knight scoffed his blush away, grumbling for the group to follow. Craigston, Tweek, and Sir Em kept close to Stanley’s heel. Leopold trailed behind with Kayin and the other casters. The group was brought through the market place and toward the protected gateway.

The witches waited at the top of the castle with Kylen guarding them. They watched as the group approached their barrier and began chanting when all appeared ready.  Once the barrier had fallen, Sir Em slipped inside the cave. He inspected it quickly and, as the coast had been cleared, allowed the arcane casters in. Kayin flashed her brother a small smile, moving with the other casters over to the cave’s wall. They whispered into the cold surface, chanting as they did.

Stanley waited for Em’s signal.

“Ready?” Craigston asked Tweek lowly.

Tweek wasn’t ready. Though, he never was. He smiled, however, and nodded his head; trying to assure the prince but he was no fool. Em made a shadow puppet and Stanley turned to the two.

“Ready.”

They both nodded and, with that, the three entered.

Craigston didn’t feel much different. He looked at his hands before looking to Tweek. Everyone appeared visible to him and he wondered if the magic had even worked. Then, he noticed Tweek’s wide eyes. Tweek looked at his body as if something had been running along it. Craigston wanted to ask what it was that Tweek had seen, but his voice would echo and give off their position.

Trails of light blue light ran over Tweek’s skin, exactly where his veins had been below. He looked at Craigston and then Stanley. Both looked beautiful in the light, their eyes almost radiating. The sight nearly stole Tweek from reality. He had to remember their mission and focus on the task at hand. Shaking his head, Tweek forced his eyes away and forward. The casters remained against the cave walls and kept their enchantment up.

Stanley led the way out of the cave. Craigston and Tweek stuck close together and trailed only slightly behind as Sir Em and Leopold held the back line. Leopold was ordered earlier not to leave the cave, however, unless someone was wounded. 

The camp came into view. At least twenty knights sat at the ready, sitting outside their many tents rather than inside. There were archers in the trees nearby, Em counted six by their heartbeats. As well as, four scouts that were stationed just outside the camp.

Stanley looked over to the grim and nodded. Em nodded back, bending down to make another shadow puppet. The rabbit he made wiggled itself to life and hopped back through the cave. It passed Kayin and the other casters a moment later. Kayin nodded to the small creature, moving her hands down the wall and over to the ground. The other arcane casters followed her lead, sliding down.

The rabbit bounce off the wall and ran back to its master. Leopold tried not to giggle when the transparent rodent ran around his legs. Em smirked briefly, bending down to absorb the shadow back into his hand. Standing back up, he shot Stanley a look and the two nodded.

Stanley drew his sword, causing Craigston to do the same. They moved into the camp with Tweek trailing somewhat behind. Em looked back and at the cave. Leopold waved, waiting at its mouth. Em smirked, winking at the healer, before shimmering away. When he reappeared, he was in a tree sitting beside an unsuspecting archer.

The raven haired boys took their place at either end of the knights. Stanley looked to Tweek, who twitched nervously. The dragonborn stammered a breath, but relaxed when Craigston shot him a reassuring smile. Tweek smiled back weakly. He then breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. The sky cracked and rain poured down suddenly.

“Careful, men!” A knight howled, “These magic users could be trying to distract us!”

“You sound like a mad fool!” Another claimed, “It’s merely rain.” He added with a laugh.

Stanley slashed the first knight to speak as Craigston stabbed into the one closest to him. They pulled back in unison and attacked again without skipping a beat. The knights scrambled to fight back, but their eyes saw nothing but rain and their own blood. In the distance, an archer noticed droplets hitting around open spaces.

His eyes squinted, noticing human shapes. “T-there!” The archer shouted, reading his bow. His eyes widened as Em hushed him before he could fire and a blade drove itself deep into the archer’s temple.

“What is it!?” Another called.

Sir Em slipped into the tree’s shadow. He reappeared a second later, emerging out of the shade around the second archer. The archer ignored the rain to soak a rag in pitch. He wrapped it quickly around the tip of his arrow, but had little time to light it. For Em wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and slashed his throat. As the knights screamed and fought with ghosts, the remaining archers attempted to signal for help.  

_“Tweek!”_

Tweek covered his mouth to muffle his scream. He spun around, but found no one there. Irony, perhaps, or karma. Then, the voice spoke again. He felt it deep within his own shadow and realized who it had been.

_“Look to the trees at your right. About ten paces. The archers are about to signal for help. There were six, I got two. I’ll take out as many as I can before they fire, but focus in case an arrow slips passed.”_

“G-got it!” Tweek replied, looking around.

Em was onto his third archer when he noticed a scout running. He grit his teeth, snapping the archer’s neck before dropping down and onto the ground. There were still three archers left, but he had faith in Tweek. Moving through the shadows, the reaper set his sights on the four scouts.

The remaining three archers fired their flaming arrows. Two extinguished before even clearing the tree line, but the third raged through the rain. Tweek’s pupils sharpened upon spotting the small red light. Tweek wasn’t sure he could focus on each individual droplet of rain. Even if he could, there hadn’t been enough time. Tweek looked up into the sky. His eyes burned brightly as lightning struck his body a moment later.

Craigston blocked an erratic strike against him, “Tweek!?” He noticed, slashing the knight away from him to rush over, but Tweek was gone.

The fire didn’t get far as Tweek engulfed it within his very being. Leaving his physical form had been terrifying. He had only done it once before and his stomach churned recalling the incident. Though, he did feel lighter and there was something freeing about the experience.

“W-we can’t hold any longer…!” Kayin fell onto one knee, panting hard.

Leopold hurried to her aid as the other casters also fell victim to fatigue. The spell broke and, with it, the group was left exposed as the invisibly gifted to them faded. Stanley noticed recognition in the eyes of the knights and frowned.

“The spell is broken!” He warned Craigston.

The prince sneered, raising his blade. He knew Tweek wouldn’t run away again, but his heart clenched at the thought. With a slash, energy erupted from his blade and ice struck a knight in front of him. He felt Tweek, if only for a moment. He was near, in the sky somewhere. Nervous as always, but determined. Of the twenty knights, Stanley and the prince cut down over half.

Sir Em landed in front of a scout and smiled, “Going somewhere?” He purred, throwing a dagger. The scout stumbled back, eyes widening as a blade struck his forehead. His mouth opened, but only a pained gasp escaped as he fell back.

The reaper shifted away and reappeared in between two other scouts. The boys screamed as Em crossed his arms and stabbed two throwing knives into their chests. Ripping the blades out, he spun them around, before slashing the scouts across their necks. He didn’t linger, fading into nothingness. The final scout had been a girl, Em nearly hesitated. The girl felt his presence, pulled out a dagger, and stabbed as she turned into him. The shadow stepped into the attack, hugging the girl close as he buried a dagger into her.

The remaining knights found their courage. They surrounded Stanley and the prince, brimming with anger and disgust. Orders to capture the prince fled. In their eyes, Craigston saw only revenge. He glanced toward Stanley who stood firm. Both boys readied their swords, but lightning fell in front of them. Tweek appeared in the light, raising both his arms up.

“The beast is there! Kill it! KILL THEM ALL.”

Tweek twitched, “I-I’m sorry for this!”

From his palms, blue lightning shot out and struck the knight at the center. The knight screamed and his body jerked violently. As Tweek focused, the lightening split and hit each knight. Stanley and Craigston were left unharmed, but were stunned all the same. They watched as a net of deadly static held the knights in place, cooking their blood from the inside. Their veins blackened as Tweek lowered his hands and the bodies dropped.

Stanley could feel the hue leaving his skin, but he swallowed his fear. “Good job.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Em!” The knight called out, “Any survivors?”

Craigston put his sword away, “Tweek.”

Tweek was shaking, his eyes were open but he wasn’t looking through them.

“It’s alright.” The prince soothed as he stepped closer. He reached out to touch the blond, ignoring the flinch. At his touch, Tweek’s pupils dilated. He blinked a few times before shaking his head and hugging Craigston suddenly.

Craigston rubbed tiny circles over Tweek’s back, “It’s alright.” He repeated, but softly.

“I-I am a monster, aren’t I?” Tweek choked out, gripping at the prince’s chest.

Craigston frowned, “If you were, you wouldn’t care about the men you just killed. You aren’t a monster, Tweek.”

Tweek’s grip loosened. He was still shaking, but his breathing stabilized. The small circles Craigston rubbed into his back, covered him in a protective warmth. Tweek buried his face into Craigston’s chest to smile, “T-thank you, Craig.”

Stanley had been walking around the camp, stabbing into any knight that still held a pulse. “Em!” He shouted, growing uneasy.

“Oh boy. You lads need any healing?” Leopold asked sweetly, leaving the cave with Kayin as the other arcane casters returned to their base.

“We’re fine.” Stanley grunted, looking around.

Kayin gasped, “E-em!?”

Sir Em held his bleeding chest, “F-fuck this hurts.” He grumbled as he stumbled back to the camp. Kayin hurried over, catching him as he fell to his knees. She fell with him, holding him up by his shoulders.

“I-I don’t understand.” She uttered.

“What in the hell happened?” Stanley snapped, moving over to them.

Leopold had already been at Kayin’s side. He bent down to the two, moving Em’s hand off his chest to check the wound.

“W-what happened?” Tweek asked, clinging to Craigston’s arm.

Craigston raised an eyebrow, noticing the black liquid fade into a red hue.

“The mole must have…gotten to my host.”

“Host?” Stanley questioned, even as he realized. “Kenneth?” The knight asked, looking the shadow over.

Em nodded, “There was something familiar…” He trailed off, wincing as the rim of his wound stung. Then, the pain sank into numbness with each loss of blood.

“Don’t you worry, Em. Leo will heal you.” Leopold said, dropping his staff beside him to seal the open wound with his hands.

“Heh. Don’t bother. Even if I die…I’ll come back. You just have to find my host. That’s the only me that matters.” The reaper muttered, relaxing into Kayin’s lap.

“E-em.” Kayin stammered, eyes filling with tears.

“That’s…” Leopold shook his head, “That’s horrible! Y-you might come back when you die but…but isn’t dying bad? Doesn’t it hurt? Isn’t it scary? I don’t want you to feel all that. Not-not if I can help it.” His cheeks then puffed up as he grew angry, “So stop saying stupid things and let me heal you.”

Kayin smiled fondly as Em was left paralyzed in his own conflicting emotions.

Leopold blushed, “Sorry for yelling.” He added sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Alright. Heal me, Butter tart.”

Stanley sheathed his sword, watching as Leopold picked up a leaf with one hand and dirt with his other. He kissed both, ignoring the brown and red smudge it left on his lips. Before parting, he whispered into them; something like an incantation. Em watched Leopold intently, watched as he rubbed the dirt over his wound then pressed the leaf hard against it. The leaf’s physical form transformed before their very eyes. It took on the appearance of light itself, then disappeared inside the reaper’s chest. Em closed one eye, half expecting it to hurt.

He smiled instead, finding strength in his limbs once more.

Kayin smiled brightly, “Do you feel better?”

“Much.” He replied, nodding his head and glancing over to Leopold.

The healer smiled at the two, overjoyed to be of aid. He then blushed as Em leaned over close to him and wiped his lips with his thumb. Leopold held his mouth when Em pulled away, as if not believing he had been touched.

“I guess I’m human.” The reaper said with a shrug, smirking at Leopold’s reaction to him.

“For how long?” Stanley asked, frowning some.

Em shrugged again, “Until we find my host and fix whatever happened.”

“H-he isn’t dead though. You-I mean. I-I mean can um, can a reaper die?” Tweek wondered out loud.

“That’s a good question. I suppose anything is possible. But no. He isn’t dead or I would have just---disappeared. Cease to exist. No, this is different. Like…sleeping?” Em noted, stroking his chin as he thought.

“Without your abilities, you’ll essentially be useless.” Craigston pointed out with little care in his voice.

“C-craig.” Tweek went to scold, but Em waved him off.

“No, he’s right. I can kick a certain amount of ass, sure. But if you want to take down an entire army? You’ll need me at my best.”

“What do we do then?” Stanley sighed, looking everyone over.

“Whoever the mole is…he’s in South Kingdom. I may be able to sense my host if I’m close enough. I’m sure you guys can take on most of them without me. Maybe even win before I return. If not, you’ll get one hell of a backup.”

Craigston glanced over and at Tweek. Tweek shot him a look and the two spoke without words before agreeing, “So the plan stays. We march on South Kingdom.” The prince stated, garnering a light squeeze of the arm from his blond partner.

“Whatever happened to my leftovers?” Em asked as he stood up with Leopold and his sister.

Tweek winced, “O-oh. I…they’re frozen in the trees.”

Em smirked, “Nice.”

“We should head back and prepare ourselves for the journey and battle ahead.” Stanley suggested, though he was already walking back into the cave.  


	13. Battle for South Kingdom

Clydesdale screamed, the sound was loud and horrid. It echoed all throughout the dungeon, causing even the rats to shudder. Tolkien’s body shook, not in fear but in anger. He watched helplessly as his friend was tortured for information neither knew. The man cut at the surface of Clydesdale’s flesh, making sure to leave swallow marks. Marks that would hurt, but wouldn’t cause enough shock to allow the guard a sweet release of unconscious. Neither would it, in fact, cause him to bleed out and die.

“I-I won’t…tell you anything!” Clydesdale shouted defiantly, even as he openly sobbed from the pain.

“You will talk.” The man replied stiffly, moving to grab a hatchet.

Clydesdale paled at the sight. He struggled to break out of his chains, pleading with a god that never showed. His torturer grabbed the chain at his wrists and steadied his hand.

“A finger for every disobedience.” The man purred.

“N-no! Please!” Clydesdale cried, sobbing hysterically.

Tolkien grit his teeth, “Hey asshole.”

The man was ready to chop off Clydesdale’s finger. He was holding the finger tightly with his hatchet raised, but Tolkien’s outburst pulled his focus away. The man grumbled incoherently, tossing the hefty blade into a bale of hay. 

“Get bored of the dark meat already? Come on. Give us another turn.” Tolkien provoked, smirking as he did.

“T-toke.” Clydesdale choked, crying harder. “N-no. I can’t…no more.”

Tolkien flashed his friend a warm, albeit broken, smile. “It’s alright you big cry baby. Just close your eyes. Sing that song. You know the one. The one your mother used to sing to you.”

“Tolkien…T-tolkien!” His friend cried out, struggling desperately to break free.

Tolkien was afraid, of course. Terrified, even. He wore a mask, however, not wanting to give their torturer the satisfaction. A part of him wanted to be strong for Clydesdale, but he knew deep down he was just a coward. If they were to die, Tolkien wouldn’t have the heart to see his friend go first.

The man was close enough. Tolkien thought about head butting him and maybe he would stumble back or even fall over. Though, after that, he wouldn’t be able to do much else. The hatchet was left in the hay. Tolkien wasn’t sure what he was about to be harmed with, but he focused on the hatchet and wondered if there was something there. Something he could do. If he hit the man’s forehead at just the right angle, he could potentially stumble back into the hay and possibly into the hatchet. 

“Your friend’s breaking.” He heard the man say, “Aid me in pushing him over the edge.”

“Excuse me.” A soft voice called, breaking through the tense air.

Clydesdale heavy sobbing nearly drowned the servant out. His eyes widened when the dark skinned girl entered. She grimaced at the sight of them, but only for a moment. Like most servants, the girl pushed her emotions deep down. Then, her face became stone as she cleared her throat.

Tolkien recognized the girl from the halls.

“The king has asked for you to leave.” She said, bowing deeply. “Your services are no longer needed. Please, collect your coin and depart.”

Clydesdale practically vibrated with hope. He didn’t stop crying, but the volume started to decrease. He looked to Tolkien, who tried to remain calm. The man cursed under his breath, grumbling as he cleaned and gathered all of his tools. He glared at the servant girl when he passed her and she only rose when he left. She waited three breathes, then quickly rushed over to help Tolkien and then Clydesdale down.

“T-thank you!” He cried, hugging the servant girl.

“Clyde.” Tolkien warned, noticing the uncomfortable look on the girl’s face. When his friend didn’t budge, Tolkien moved over to yank Clydesdale away. Clydesdale responded by hugging him instead.

Tolkien groaned, “I’m still bleeding.”

“We don’t have much time.” The servant interrupted, setting a bucket of water she had been holding down. “It’s a good thing your wounds aren’t serious.” She told the two, wetting a rag to wipe off all the blood.

Clydesdale winced each time the rag touched his sensitive skin. He then grinned, “You like what you see---ow!”

Tolkien rolled his eyes, ignoring his friend. “Has the king found the caster’s base? Has he attacked the magic users yet?” He asked, watching the girl closely.

“Do not worry. I received word from my sisters and all is well. Right now, we must focus on getting you two out of the castle.” She replied softly, wrapping their wounds.

“Why are you helping us?”

“Toke! Don’t listen to him, lady. We’re really grateful. Thank you so SO much.”

The servant rose when she finished, “We are allies.” She assured, “Come. This way.”

Tolkien and Clydesdale exchanged glances before following after the dark skinned girl. She was lovely, even in her servant wear. Clydesdale’s eyes dipped low as she walked, but Tolkien nudged him; hitting one of his bandaged wounds. The guard yelped like a dog, causing the girl to shoot the two a look. She hushed them before peeking out into the hallway.

“What about Stripe?” Clydesdale asked, rubbing his arm.

The girl took a step back, “I have him.” She said, pulling a small creature out of her apron pocket.

“What the…you’re a caster?” Tolkien asked, surprised that he had been surprised. After all, it made sense once thought about.

“That’s amazing! You shrank him?” Clydesdale gawked, poking the rodent’s head. Stripe’s beady eyes narrowed as he went to bite the guard, but the hand was pulled away rather quickly.

Clydesdale laughed.

“Keep your voice down.” The girl scolded, putting Stripe back into her pocket. “It’s a spell and the easiest way to travel with a cavy unnoticed.”

“Smart.” Tolkien practically praised and the girl smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I’m Tolkien. What’s your name?”

Clydesdale grinned, looking between the two.

“Nikoleta.” She replied, eyes on Tolkien. “But you may call me Niko.”

Clydesdale coughed, “AND I’M CLYDESDALE.”

“SHH.” The two hushed, flashing smiles at their unison.

“You guys are mean.” Clydesdale whined.

 

Wendelyn looked over her army of casters. Her witch sisters stood behind her with the prince and Tweek at her right and Stanley with Kylen at her left. Sir Em kept to the shadows, unable to slip within them, but found comfort in their cool embrace. Kayin flashed him a smile, standing tall beside Leopold and the other casters. They looked up proudly, awaiting their Mother’s speech.

“For too long,” She began loudly, “we have lived in fear. For too long, our mothers and fathers have bled for us to live. And what life were we given? Constant running. Enteral torment. We have been threatened, beaten, and killed.” Her voice only grew, “Underground. In the dark. Behind closed doors. When will we be free? When will WE have the same basic rights as our less gifted brothers and sisters?” Wendelyn shouted and the crowd cried out.

“Now.” She said, eyes flashing with power. “Right now! We will take it.”

The crowd cheered, but dipped quiet when she looked to Craigston. The prince visibly cringed, hating the idea of addressing anyone. Then, Tweek stole his hand, gave it a good squeeze, and he found the will to open his mouth.

“My father wants to rid South Kingdom of magic users. He doesn’t believe we can co-exist.” Craigston stated. He glanced to Tweek and the dragonborn flashed a small smile. Craigston couldn’t fight the smile that joined him.

He spoke again and with more conviction, “But I say he’s wrong! We all bleed, we all hurt, and love. I join you today not as the prince of South Kingdom, but as a knight of the casters. As a warrior of the Mothers. Fight with me. Help me usurp my father and I swear to the stars above, magic will thrive in South Kingdom once more. You will never have to live in fear again!”

Tweek smiled brightly as the casters responded favorably. He raised Craigston’s arm with his own and let out a battle cry. The casters erupted with shouts of their own. Stanley and Kylen chuckled before joining in, which caused Wendelyn to shake her head. It was a fine moment, but one that wouldn’t last. Soon, the ground would be soaked in blood. The witch only hoped it would be little of their own.

Wendelyn let the moment fill the air, but wouldn’t allow herself to be pulled in. She steeled her heart, calling for their march to begin. Stanley led the front line on horseback along with Craigston, Tweek, and Sir Em. Casters who could only use magic items and weapons made up the rest of the horsemen, aside from Kylen who remained at Wendelyn’s side. Tweek had never rode a horse before, and so he shared one with the prince. The arcane casters, known as elementalists, filled most of the middle line and were paired with druids. Since elementalists and druids used natural energy as their magical base, they paired well. Kayin was happy to be paired with Leopold, who flashed the girl a cheerful smile. Wendelyn led the hex users along with her witch sisters and her scholar. Hex magic relied on dark magic, which balanced well with white magic; whose healers were known simply as curists.

Wendelyn tore part of her dress away for better movement. She looked beside her and smiled at Kylen, who readied a talisman.

Off in the distance, a horn blew. Just outside the castle walls stood South Kingdom’s massive army. A couple of thousand stood against Wendelyn’s few hundred. They were, of course, greatly outnumbered but it was to be expected. The casters didn’t faltered in their march. They took their positions with both pride and purpose. They stood at the ready, eyes firmly ahead and locked onto their enemy.

Tweek watched in both amazement and horror. The casters must have feared death, but none had shown it. They weren’t knights or fighters, yet they would valiantly die for their cause. Tweek glanced to Craigston and wondered if it had been worth it. The prince was no caster and, had Tweek never became his servant, he may not have been involved in the war at all. Or, at least, he would be on the other side of it. Craigston must have sensed Tweek’s distress and looked to him. He flashed a small, but reassuring smile. Tweek smiled back as best as he could. The dark cloud continued to loom over his head, but he found courage in Craigston’s strong presence.  

Stanley moved upfront, drew his sword, and raised it.

“For Gaia!” He shouted.

“For Gaia!” The casters echoed.

Craigston and Tweek exchanged glances before joining in on the chant. South Kingdom shouted for their king and their kingdom. Another horn blew and, without skipping a beat, the two armies advanced. Battle cries erupted on both sides as horses and foot soldiers alike rushed into battle. Stanley led the charge, shouting orders for the front line, as Wendelyn commanded the rest.

As the horsemen of South Kingdom grew close, druids of Gaia used their bonds with nature to persuade the stallions to stop. Many horses bucked their riders off and some even trampled over the men that had fallen. Kayin worked with other elementalists to open the ground below the fallen men. The knights screamed, trying to crawl out of the ground desperately, only to be swallowed by it. Stanley had already rushed in, slashing at the men whose horses proved strong of will. Em led their horsemen into the fry, joining Stanley in his assault.

Foot soldiers ran into battle without fear. They took up arms, aiming for the group’s horses. Archers in the back were ordered to aim for the elementalists. Craigston removed his sword in response, slashing at the ground and releasing a wave of ice. Tweek’s eyes flashed as the ice the prince produced expanded greatly, freezing hordes of metal boots and the man attached to them. As the archers readied their bows, many found themselves suddenly covered in spiders. They wailed, slapping at their hands and forearms, dropping their arrows. Rebecca chanted louder as the spiders went up in flames that covered paled flesh. The archers screamed, throwing themselves to the ground and rolling around, confusing those around them that saw nothing.

Wendelyn smirked briefly at her sister’s illusions, “You’re up, Bebe.” She ordered and the blonde whipped her wavy hair.

Barbara chanted, walking forward to catch even a short glance of the enemy. Those who spotted the witch fell into a deep trance. Their eyes became clouded as their minds fell blank. Then, knight upon knight turned on each other.  

South Kingdom’s heavy numbers began to dwell slowly, with Gaia’s army suffering little to no causalities. The battle raged well into the day. At night, those of dark magic grew stronger. Wendelyn touched her stomach, feeling a pull of power. She knew her unborn child was free of harm, but the feeling gnawed at an illogical part of her brain. Rebecca’s illusions grew in intensity and range as Barbara’s charm spread like wildfire.

South Kingdom’s men were forced to retreat. Archers fired from cover but each time a caster was struck, there was a healer at their side to aid them. Shifting tactics, the archers aimed for the healers.

Em caught the malicious intent, pulling on his horse’s reins. Leopold had been far too focused on keeping Kayin safe to watch his own back. Arrows rained down and the elementalists protected themselves with rushes of fire or strong gusts of wind. Some raised the earth around them or froze water that encircled them. They were left mortified, however, when the arrows ignored them and their magic to strike the druids behind them.

“Leo!” Kayin screamed, flinching when a horse blurred passed.

Em was struck instead, falling off his horse and onto the ground below.

“Em!” Leopold and Kayin shouted in unison.

Leopold hurried over to the fallen reaper, “E-em?” He called, reaching for the arrow. Em grunted, pushing the healer’s hand away.

“Looks like I’m always meant to die.” He chuckled grimly, looking up.

Leopold’s eyes filled with tears, “I don’t…why did ya do that!?”

“Heh…I’ll come back.” He reminded, using the little strength he had to yank Leopold closer, “Tavern.” Em whispered into his ear.

“Tavern? W-what tav---…” Then, it hit Leopold.

It was Cartesian, Cartesian was the mole.

“And Butter tart?”

Leopold snapped back, tears replaced with rage.

“Be careful.” The reaper told him, pecking his lips before falling back down.

Kayin fell onto her knees by them, “I-it never gets easier. To watch. It…”

Em’s body remained lifeless. The shadows around him didn’t fade, nor did he become them. He didn’t slip away and reappear like he always had. His body simply stopped moving, his breathing ceased, and he was dead. Leopold knew the reaper wasn’t truly gone. He knew that once they saved Kenneth, Em would return. Yet, tears streamed down his face. They were hot and angry.

He grabbed his scarred eye and laughed, “Eric.” Was all he had said, his eyes suddenly deranged.

“L-leo?” Kayin gasped, covering her mouth.

“I know where Ken is.” He replied, standing up.

Stanley frowned as he watched the scene from a distance, ‘They killed Em.’ He thought.

‘Bastards!’ Kylen angrily thought. He wanted to rush over, but protecting Wendelyn prevented the scholar from doing so.

The elementalists responded to their fallen healers with hardened Earth. Large chunks flung from the ground and into the bodies of archers, knocking them from their perches. Those unlucky enough to survive their fall, were met with fire.

Tweek didn’t like the screams of war. He didn’t like the smell of burnt flesh or the taste of copper that lingered in the air. Clinging tightly to Craigston, Tweek buried his face into the prince’s back as they galloped toward the castle’s gates.

“Ready?” He heard Craigston say, sword in hand.

Tweek’s grip tightened briefly. He then pulled away slightly to look up. They were nearing the entrance at a decent speed. “Y-yes!” He remembered to reply. Tweek’s eyes started to glow, causing the sword in Craigston’s grasp to copy their hue.

Craigston smirked, cocking his arm back and throwing the blade ahead.

“Now!” They heard Stanley shout.

Tweek’s eyes blackened as the sword exploded in a fantastic mass of light and mist. Craigston didn’t wait for the mist to clear. He, like Stanley and the other horsemen, merely rushed inside. They abandoned their horses once behind enemy lines to engage in close combat. South Kingdom’s army attacked as they entered, thinking they had the advantage from such a narrow space.

Wendelyn chanted when spears were thrown. A purple light appeared over each spear to match the glow in the witch’s eyes. It was close each time, but Wendelyn managed to change the direction of all the projectiles. Quite a few grazes were welcomed in placement of internal organs. Spears littered the tiny gaps in between each caster. Kylen was quick to open a scroll. He read from it with a furrowed brow, but determined eyes. Suddenly, the spears ripped themselves out of the ground and shot back into the men that had thrown them.

In such close quarters, the knights took back their confidence, even as they had to step over their fallen brethren. Their weapon mastery nearly balanced out against the magical weapons they faced. Against more magical inclined casters, the knights fared well if their first strike was deadly. Should the caster live, the opposing knight was met with a painful rebuke.

Leopold never entered the castle. Instead, he walked toward the nearest tavern. His pace only increased with each passing step, until the young druid was practically running. The tavern in question had been deserted. At least, it had seemed that way. Leopold poked his head inside, calling out for its owner. His voice bounced around empty walls, but his eyes spotted the mess. Overturn tables and broken wooden stools graced the floor. Leopold frowned, looking around with growing anxiety.

James struggled to break out of his ropes, struggled to push the gag out of his mouth with his tongue. If the physician couldn’t hear his muffled wails, perhaps something else could get one’s attention. The bard looked around. He was behind the bar, that much he knew. Shuffling his body, the jester kicked with both tied feet. The bar rattled and he didn’t stop until a few tankards fell from their shelves.

Leopold gasped as he quickly moved behind the bar, “J-james!” His eyes fell on the bard, but shot to Kenneth beside him. “Hold on, lads. I’ll get you out of these ropes a-and I’ll heal you right up, Ken.”

“What are you doing here, Leo?”

Leopold froze, his eyes wide. Slowly, he turned around to face Cartesian in the doorway. The mercenary smirked upon seeing his old friend alone. Behind him stood a taller girl, who looked unthreatened by Leopold’s presence. 

“I think you know.” He replied, reaching for his eye. Leopold laughed, smirking. “Oh Eric. You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

Cartesian raised his eyebrow, “You alright there? Sounding a little crazy, friend.”

“We’re not friends. Not anymore.” Leopold snapped back, glaring.

“Woah hoho. Look who finally grew a pair.” Cartesian teased, chuckling as he did.

“You hurt Ken. You-you got Em killed!”

Ericson seemed amused, “Who isn’t worth it now?”

Leopold grunted, holding his face. He turned away from Cartesian and back to James with Kenneth.

“Take care of him, Heida.” He heard Cartesian say, but the words didn’t register until after he was grabbed and tossed away from the bar. Leopold hit the ground hard, but used the wall by him to stand back up.

Cartesian was gone by the time Leopold regained his senses. Heida, as she was called, cracked her knuckles.

“O-oh jeez. I don’t wanna hurt you, miss.”

Heida chuckled lightly, “That’s rich. Because I want to hurt you.”

Leopold grimaced, picking his staff back up. “Please, lady. I need to help my friend.” He tried to express as she walked toward him.

Heida darted over midway, but fell abruptly. She blinked the black spots away and turned over to find water wrapped around her leg like a whip. Kayin reeled at the air and the water pulled Heida away from Leopold.

“Get Ken, Leo!” Kayin said, “I’ll handle this bitch.”

Leopold wiped the stunned look off his face to hurry back over to James and Kenneth. He then freed both, but Kenneth remained unresponsive.

“E-ericson did some-did some…did something to him.” James managed to say, but Leopold figured as much.

Running his hand over Kenneth’s shadow, Leopold found his courage. He wasn’t sure what had been wrong with the reaper, but he was sure he could be the one to bring him back. Setting his staff down and at his side, Leopold focused on the energy that connected all living things. There were multiple forms of healing. In order to do so, Leopold needed to know exactly what it was he had been curing. But he didn’t know and he had little time to try and figure it out. Instead, he healed at random.

Back at the castle, the casters held their positions. Craigston used a fallen knight’s sword, glancing to Tweek who electrocuted anyone who got too close to the prince.

“I need to get inside.” Craigston grunted, blocking an oncoming attack.

Stanley kicked the assailant away and stabbed him as he fell, “The king should be in his quarters.”

“No. He’ll be in the throne room.” His father was an icon. He didn’t fight openly, but he wasn’t a coward either.

Tweek was trembling. He was afraid, but that hadn’t been the reason. Using his magic so freely, it woke a fire inside of him. Every life taken added fuel to his flame. Tweek was frightened of himself, terrified that he may not be able to stop.

“Tweek.”

Tweek felt Craigston grab his shoulders.

Craigston frowned when their eyes met, “Are you alright? I asked if you could take me.”

“Take…you?” Tweek murmured.

The prince pointed up, “Into the air. With you.”

Tweek flinched, “W-what? No it’s…it’s too dangerous!”

“It’s the only way.” Craigston urged.

The sounds of battle were drowned out as Craigston brushed a stray hair from Tweek’s face, “You won’t hurt me.” The prince assured, cupping the side of his face.

Tweek winced, grabbing Craigston’s hand. His eyes shut briefly and the echoes of battle returned. When he opened his eyes, Craigston’s eyes remained. Tweek’s grip tightened and he nodded, though reluctantly.

Stanley slashed a knight, so violently, the man spun around and fell into another. Flicking his wrist, Stanley whipped his blade and the blood from it. “Without Em, we won’t be able to overcome the army. But we’ll hold until you usurp the king.” The knight claimed, turning to face the two.

“Be careful, **_sire_**.”

Craigston smirked to rid himself of surprise, “Don’t get soft on me now, Marshall.”

Stanley scoffed, turning back to battle.

Tweek smiled faintly, if only for a moment. He felt Craigston move to take his hand and he intertwined their fingers on instinct. Breathing in deeply, the shaky blond found comfort in his partner’s eyes. Craigston flashed him a small but loving smile, and Tweek couldn’t fight the urge to kiss him. His body sparked as the prince returned his kiss. The darkness behind their eyelids couldn’t shield either from the light that radiated from their very being. Craigston felt warm, warmer than he had ever felt before in his life. His existence felt whole, even as the many particles of his body scattered.

Lightning struck the balcony of Craigston’s chambers. The two reformed within the smoke, panting. Tweek closed one eye as Craigston curled over the railing and threw up. Releasing his hand, Tweek used said hand to rub the prince’s back.

“It’s okay. I-I vomited the first time t-too.”

Craigston caught his breath when he finished and wiped his mouth before standing up right. He looked Tweek over, his face flat. Then, he smiled. “That was…amazing.”

Tweek bit his lower lip, “R-really?”

Craigston ran his thumb over the bottom lip, “Yeah.” He said, forcing the blond to release his lip from his teeth. There was still a war raging outside. Craigston still needed to confront his father. Yet, his body ached to grab Tweek and toss him onto the bed in his room. 

 _People are dying_ , he had to remind himself.

“I need a new sword.” He finally said, pulling his hand away.

Tweek jolted out of his daze, “R-right! Wait…where’s Stripe?” He asked, looking around the balcony before walking into Craigston’s room.

Craigston frowned, following after his mate.

“Y-you don’t think?” Tweek started to ask, but Craigston cut him off.

“There’s no blood.” He pointed out, walking passed him to crack his door open. “Clyde and Tolkien aren’t at their posts.” Craigston noted as he carefully shut the door, “I’m sure they’re all together…and safe.” He added before Tweek could freak out. Though, Craigston was beginning to grow anxious. He looked to Tweek with a sterile face all the same, wishing to keep the twitchy blond calm.

Tweek was holding his chest. He wanted to believe Craigston, but his mind wandered and it wandered fast. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on Craigston and the sword he needed. Tweek wasn’t exactly sure how he made the sword the first time. He recalled being scared, but mostly angry. He learned a few techniques from his sessions with Kylen to keep his emotions in check and, with them, his magic.  Wendelyn helped him learn to harness that which he could control, but control had always been the problem.

“Tweek?”

“I made the sword to protect you. In the moment and I…I don’t know if I can do it again.” He confessed, breathing out cold air.

Craigston walked closer to him, “You were pretty upset then, huh?”

Tweek only nodded.

“Your powers are connected to your feelings, right?”

Tweek nodded again.

“Do they have to be negative emotions?” Craigston then asked, grazing the back of Tweek’s hand with his fingertips.

“I-I…well no.” Tweek stammered, glancing every which way.

“Do you love me?”

Tweek nearly flinched, eyes shooting to the raven haired boy in front of him. “How is that even a….y-yes. Of course I do!” He replied, grabbing both of Craigston’s hands.

Craigston leaned forward, resting his forehead upon Tweek’s. Tweek closed his eyes on reflex, squeezing down on the prince’s hands as he did.

“Well then…make me a sword from this. This feeling.”

“C-craig.”

Tweek smiled, opening his eyes back up. Blue sparks tickled Craigston’s fingertips a moment later as cold air escaped Tweek’s lips. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he focused on the prince. Rather ice, a flame developed in their hands. Tweek went to flinch away, but Craigston held onto him.

“It’s alright.” He whispered, revealing that the flame did not harm him.

Tweek’s cringe softened the longer the flame burned between them. The color reminded Tweek of Craigston’s eyes. The thought alone made the fire grow. With that, Tweek focused all his energy. He gave Craigston a look and the two slowly parted their hands. The fire thinned and formed between them. As the weapon took shape, Cragiston reached out and grabbed it.

“Sooo content.” The prince mused, lowering the sword to grab Tweek and yank him into a deep kiss.

“I have to go.” Craigston informed against rough lips, pulling away.  

Tweek sucked in his bottom lip to taste Craigston still there, “W-why are you telling me? I’m going with you.” He retorted, pouting.

“The others need you. And I…I have to do this alone.” Craigston replied, fighting a frown.

“Craig I can’t…I can’t leave you!”

“I’ll be alright.” Craigston assured, cupping Tweek face with his free hand. “You’ll still be with me.” He added, lifting his new sword upward as a reminder.

Tweek smiled meekly, turning his head slightly to place a chaste kiss on Craigston’s palm.

“Be careful.” The blond ordered, glancing back to the balcony.

Craigston nodded, “You too.”

Tweek replied by blowing a kiss. When he spun away, his nerves and embarrassment took hold but the boy was a flash of lightening a second later and gone the next. He returned to the battle field, slamming into the ground with a thunderous clap, causing all those around him to be pushed back.

Tweek’s black eyes burned with newfound flames as his hands ignited once more. He examined the fire briefly before putting it to good use. Aiming for South Kingdom crests, Tweek set knights that attacked his comrades ablaze.

Wendelyn smiled, like a mother might, proud of Tweek’s power and his growing confidence. Some of the casters cowered, but the witch shot them all a warning of a look. Kylen understood their fear, but didn’t hesitate to join Wendelyn in her scolding. They were all brethren, after all.

“Silence the beast!” A knight shouted.

Tweek growled, spinning around, but a large metal net fell from above and forced him to the ground. The chains felt similar to Tweek’s collar. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling had been overwhelming. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the many markings craved into the chains. Tweek screamed fire, but the flames never passed through the tiny holes. Instead, it encased Tweek himself. The backfire didn’t harm the dragonborn, however, as he breathed in deeply and absorbed the blue fire.

“Be careful!” Wendelyn cried out as more nets fell.

Kylen shot Stanley a look from afar. The knight looked conflicted, clearly wishing to aid them, but needed to prevent further damage. Stifling his emotions, Stanley put his faith in his lovers and moved to silence the net casters. His path was then blocked by a horde of enemy knights.

Tweek struggled to break free. His breathing quickened with every failed toss and turn. He grabbed at the chains and pulled, but to no avail. Tweek screamed again, yanking at the chains before attempting to bite them. The skin around his eyes cracked, revealing a glossy hue underneath. As his skin cracked, so did the chains around him. The net remained intact enough, however. Slowly, it drained Tweek of his energy. Tweek’s body fell deathly cold and his grip tightened. Ice leaked out of his fingertips, but melted and evaporated almost instantly. Tweek’s teeth began grinding against each other. Ice poured out at a faster pace, overwhelming the enchantment that threatened to supress him. A heavy force smacked against the freezing chains a second later and Tweek’s body tensed.

“Tweek!” He heard Clydesdale shout.

Tweek’s clenched jaw relaxed. The anger that clouded his eyes started to dissipate. He blinked a few times and his senses back. Clydesdale hopped off what appeared to be a massive cavy.

Tweek recognized the lavender ribbon around that beast’s neck.

“S-stripe!?” He flinched.

Stripe had been gigantic. Large enough for Clydesdale, Tolkien, and a servant girl to ride. The monster of a cavy sniffed the air around Tweek before pushing his large face against the blond’s body. Tweek laughed nervously, hugging the rodent’s nose.

“W-what happened to you!? How did you get so…so big! Clyde?”

Clydesdale grinned at first, “Lord-fuck! Tweek! Your eyes, man.”

Tweek bit the inside of his cheek.

“Leave him be. You look fine.” Tolkien assured, hopping down and helping Nikoleta as he did.

Nikoleta brushed herself off, “I manipulated his size.” She informed Tweek, bowing slightly. “It’s an honor to meet you properly, dragonborn.”

“I-I…remember you. You took Stripe to Craig’s room t-that time…when Bartles…” Tweek trailed off, shaking his head.

“Nikoleta!” Wendelyn called out.

Nikoleta frowned, “Enchanted nets. I should have known. Tolkien, we need to stop them.” She then said, turning to him and pointing up.

Tolkien nodded, scooping the girl up with one arm and moving back onto Stripe.

“B-be careful!” Tweek shouted after them.

Clydesdale nudged the blond, “In the middle of battle and he’s trying to court---is that Bebe!?”

Tweek stared at the guard dully as he fixed his hair. He then cursed under his breath, having to chase after Clydesdale. The guard moved over to aid the witches. He had no weapon on him, but used heavy kicks and clenched fists. Though, Tweek rushed in front of Clydesdale when the tide turned. His body twitched, but he steadied his hands enough to slam them together. A shockwave rippled out of his palms and struck the many knights.

“W-woah. You’ve gotten a lot better at that!”

“Clyde?” Barbara questioned, walking over to them.

“Princess! You…you’re. A caster!” Clydesdale gushed.

Wendelyn let out a sigh, “There’s still a war going on.” She reminded, annoyed.

“Yeah,” Rebecca chimed in, “And I’m only losing by ten. Wait. Who’s leading? Wendy, right?”

“Who else?” Kylen laughed.

Barbara rolled her eyes, “Yes. I’m a caster. A witch of Gaia.” She bragged, eyeing the guard up and down. “What of it?”

“That’s…AWESOME. You were always so favorable. But now?” He praised.

“Guys.” Tweek piped, looking around as they were surrounded.

Barbara smiled, “You’re not unfavorable yourself.”

Wendelyn rolled her eyes, “Kyle. Clyde. Bebe. Handle the nets. Tweek and Red, you’re with me.”

“R-right!” Tweek answered as his eyes darted around.

Clydesdale put his arm out for Barbara, “After you.”

Kylen couldn’t roll his eyes faster. Barbara giggled as she walked in front of the guard. As the three aided the casters under the metal nets, Wendelyn chanted. Weapons lost their accuracy, only to morph into something horrifying from the sound of Rebecca’s voice. Tweek took advantage of the disarray, freezing the ground with a slide of his foot. Raising his arm, the ice traveled up the men. He then clenched his fist and the ice shattered, littering the ground with chunks of South Kingdom knights.

Stripe rushed through a horde of knights, opening Stanley’s path. He froze briefly at the sight, but shook it off; deciding it was best not to question his luck. The once knight noticed Tolkien aboard the beast and ran after them. Nikoleta clung tightly to Tolkien, who guided Stripe into the castle.

Stanley stopped short once inside.

Outside, the casters were freed and joined their witch leader back in battle. From above, shouting could be heard. Stripe ran through the men who were readying new nets. The metal nets never fell, but many of the assailants had.

“Toke got em!” Clydesdale called out, returning to the battlefield. He then made a face, looking around. “Where’s Craig?”

“I-inside.” Tweek replied, stifling a twitch.

Stanley sheathed his sword as he walked toward the throne room. There were bodies in his path, some stabbed as others were burnt. Many an eerie combination of both. Stanley squinted his eyes as he reached the throne room doors. Voices were heard. Loud, but not shouting. He recognized both and opened the doors. The king stood in front of Craigston. Both had their swords drawn, but not raised. Behind the two, Cartesian sat upon the king’s chair, grinning from ear to ear.

“Cartesian!” Stanley snapped, catching both royals off guard.

Craigston frowned, turning to him. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“Tweek’s fine.” The knight replied, eyes glued on Cartesian.

Cartesian smirked, “Greetings Stanley. How’s war treating you?” He mused, crossing his legs.

“You son of---”

Craigston put out his arm and Stanley halted. His eyes burned holes into Cartesian as his hand gripped the hilt of his blade.

“This is it?” The king spoke up, “There is no reasoning with you.”

“My mind is set. As is yours, father. It seems there is no other way.”

“Then so be it.” The man replied, raising his sword.

“My lord, please—” Stanley went to plea, but Craigston raised his own sword.

The king held his stance, eyes never leaving his son. Craigston squeezed down on the handle of his blade, his eyes just as focused.

**“To the death then.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left. Is everyone ready!? I will be posting the final chapter on, hopefully, February 7th; as a birthday gift to myself. I truly hope to see you there, my friends. 
> 
> Kitty-


	14. The world ever Changing

Kayin crossed her arms, chanting as water manifested over them. The water then froze over, just in time to catch Heida’s fist. Heida ignored her bleeding knuckles to punch the caster with her other hand. Kayin went flying, slamming against the wall behind her. Black spots clouded her visions as she slipped down to the floor. Heida scoffed, turning to attack Leopold. The healer had been too focused on healing Kenneth, however, to notice. James no longer had his lute, but moved in the way regardless.

“You-you ever hear the one with the frog and the wench?” The bard asked, seemingly friendly. Though, he had one of his walking staffs raised.

Heida glared, “Move aside.”

“Heida!” Kayin snapped, forcing herself back up.

Heida sighed as she turned back around, “Stubborn little thing. Aren’t you?”

“What happened to you?” Kayin asked, stepping forward. “You used to be so nice. You used to be one of us! I’m sure Wendy and the others miss you—”

“Miss me!? You think those…those WITCHES miss me?” She laughed, “All they care about is their magic. And people with magic.”

“You can be one of us without magic. And you were! Please, Heida…come back.”

Heida seemed to pause and take Kayin’s words to heart, her expression conflicted. Kayin revealed a small smile, but was taken aback when Heida turned back to James. Ripping the wood from his grasp, the jester nearly fell over. James then cried out as Heida smacked him aside with his own staff.

“Heida!” Kayin snapped, whipping the staff out of her hand with a thick strand of water. Kayin rotated her body and threw her arm out, smacking Heida at her side.

Heida growled, attempting to grab the water that struck her. Kayin chanted and the magical liquid expanded. It rushed over Heida’s body and encased her, suddenly. Heida’s eyes widened when she realized she was under water. The mercenary covered her mouth before trying to claw her way out of Kayin’s magic. Kayin narrowed her eyes, sharpening the glow that poured out of them. The young elementalist paid close attention to Heida’s movements. Her struggle started to slow and became less violent as the fear in her eyes increased. Heida was no longer able to hold her breath, but Kayin dropped her magic seconds before the mercenary opened her mouth. Heida dropped to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

“Y-you…” Heida’s anger was evident in her tone, but her eyes filled with tears that merge with the salty water still dripping off her face.

Kayin’s eyelids lowered, “I’m sorry, Heida. I really am.” She said, walking passed the older girl to aid James.

Heida reached into her boot, pulling out a hidden blade. Kayin had just passed Heida when she was stabbed in the back of the leg. The caster screamed, falling to her hands and knees.        

Leopold’s trance was broken, but it had not mattered. Kenneth’s eyes shot open and, with them, Sir Em emerged. The reaper slipped over to Heida and yanked the girl up to snap her neck.

“D-don’t!” Kayin called out, causing the shadow to stop short.

Em grunted, choosing to knock Heida out rather than kill her. He let her body drop, turning to ask Leopold for aid, but the healer was already moving toward Kayin. He smiled, happy to see Sir Em again. His smile was somewhat weak and Em noticed a fade to his once bright iris. Leopold fell suddenly, but the reaper was quick to catch him.

Kenneth moved over to Kayin, removing his scarf to tear it in half and wrap around her wounded leg. Kayin silently thanked her brother, eyes on Leopold and filled with worry.

“Is Leo, alright?” She asked Em.

Em bent down with the boy, “This isn’t the time to be sleeping, Butter tart.”

Leopold chuckled lightly, “Just tired.” He assured, closing his eyes with a smile still on his face. Em frowned briefly, only to smile back.

“Healing a reaper is quite a feat.” Em noted, looking Leopold over. “Thank you.” He then said, leaning down to plant a tender kiss upon Leopold’s lips. Leopold blushed, eyes still closed, but pressed back with some force.

“I-I’m just glad you’re alright. Both of you.” Leopold muttered, curling against Em’s chest.

Kenneth helped Kayin up, who handed him James’ staffs. Kenneth only nodded his head, moving to aid the bard.

“I have to go.” Em said as he looked down and watched Leopold fall asleep.

“I’ll look after him.” Kayin assured, touching the reaper’s forearm.

Em set Leopold down and removed his cloak to place it over his sleeping form. He looked to Kayin, who smiled fondly. Em pinched her cheek and was gone before she could react. When he reappeared, he was back on the battlefield.

“Miss me?” Em purred, cracking his neck.

           

Craigston’s blade clashed against his father’s for what felt like the thousandth time. Both were holding back, Stanley observed. Craigston more so than the king. The once prince refused to use the magic of his sword. Without it, he remained a force to be reckoned with. In his day, the king might have been the same. Time and lack of combat had taken a toll on the king’s skills, but his muscle memory proved to hold his strong will.

“Bewitched by a demon.” The king grunted, trying to push Craigston and his blade back.

“Tweek isn’t a demon, father. And for the last time: he did not bewitch me.”

His father scoffed, “You would kill your own father? If your mother and sister could only see what you’ve become. You disgrace them with---“

Craigston pushed back hard, causing the king to stumble back. He moved back in, slashing. His father hardly had time to block. Craigston didn’t let up. He struck again and again, sparks flying from the constant friction.  Cartesian frowned as he watched the scene from the throne room chair. He felt Stanley’s cocky smirk and rolled his eyes without the need to look.

“You disgrace them, as well as, yourself.” Craigston claimed, his voice flat but his actions filled with anger. “Urtica was here.” He said, emotion prodding through his sister’s name.

His father stumbled back.

“She couldn’t move on. Tweek saw her. HE helped her. She’s finally at peace now. Not thanks to you or to me. Thanks to HIM. You would kill the one who saved your only daughter? Who loves your only son. Because of what exactly, father?”

The king’s foot hit the step toward his throne. He looked back briefly, only to turn back and glare at his son. “You know what. Magic! It’s dangerous. It---“

“Scares the shit out of you.” Craigston challenged, lowering his sword.

“Hold your tongue, boy.” The king aimed his sword, but was quick to lower it as well. His grip shook ever so slightly, “Did you see her? Urtica…did you…”

Craigston’s chest clenched, but his face remained stern. “She showed me her middle finger. Not before showing me up in archery, of course.”

The king laughed despite himself, “Your sister was always a pain in my royal ass.” He said, voice cracking some.

“Yeah. Me too.” Craigston sighed out wistfully, “Tweek didn’t have to help her. Urtica didn’t have to like him. Do you really think her soul would be put to rest if Tweek was evil?”

“Urtica…” The king choked, dropping his sword.

Stanley let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps, there was still time to reason with the old fool. Craigston reached out for his father with his free hand. They were never close and they certainly didn’t embrace one another. So, he gripped his father’s shoulder. A gesture that meant enough for both parties. His father looked up with tears in his eyes. They spoke with fear, they spoke with pain, and they screamed of regret Cragiston could never know. Then, his eyes widened. The king stared at his son with a look of utter shock and betrayal. The blade that pierced his back, burst out of his chest and through Craigston’s. Stanley cried out, but the sound had been something distant. On reflex, Craigston gripped the handle of his sword and blue fire shot out. It hit nothing in particular as it met with the floor. Craigston’s grip loosened when his father fell into him. He dropped his sword to keep his father upright, gripping the man by his shoulders. The king had indirectly pushed the blade between them deeper into his son, whimpering like a dog as he did.

“C-craig…son…I’m…” He winced, his voice breaking into a whisper.

Cartesian pulled his sword out of the royals, letting them fall. “THAT is how you overthrow a kingdom.” The mercenary bragged, patting himself on the back with his tone.

“Cartesian!!!” Stanley screamed, shooting over to him. “You crossed the line. You! What is wrong with you!?” He shouted, smacking Ericson’s sword away with such ease, the mercenary was visibly offended.

“Calm down, Stan. This is what we wanted. What needed to be done. I told you—”

“No!” Stanley snapped, grabbing him by his collar. “This is what YOU wanted.”

Just then, the ground darkened under the two. Their shadows merged and Sir Em took form with Tweek at his side. Tweek held his chest, glancing around. He didn’t make eye contact with either, but Em surely did. His glare captured Cartesian, causing the husky teen to pale.

“K-ken. Good to see you! Awake already? How was your nap?”

Stanley kept his own glare upon Cartesian, but released him roughly to turn to Tweek. Tweek was frozen in place. He stared at the pool of blood and the bodies lying within it.

“Tweek…” The knight attempted.

Tweek screamed. The sound shattered glass. It echoed all throughout the castle and with a gust of hot wind. Stanley covered his ears, but was pushed back. Em hardly moved, grabbing Cartesian before he could run away or fall.

“What did I tell you?” The reaper said, his voice dripping with venom.

Cartesian’s ears started to bleed, but Em prevented him from covering them. Even as his old friend begged, all sympathy left the shadow’s eyes. Dropping his free hand, a hidden dagger fell within it. He pulled up quickly, grazing the surface of Cartesian’s fat neck. Em saw Leopold’s face flash in his mind’s eye and frowned.

“I cannot kill you.”

Cartesian’s relief was palpable. Though, it was not enough to humble him. A shit eating grin crossed his face.

“That being said,” Em stated before knocking the fat bastard out. 

Tweek pulled Craigston into his lap, “C-craig. Craig!”

Craigston hardly had the strength to open his eyes. He no longer felt most of his limbs, but found his hand rising all the same. The panic in Tweek’s eyes heightened when Craigston touched the side of his face. He could feel how weak the prince had been, sensed his life leaving him.

Then, he smiled.

Tweek grabbed his hand, “Please don’t do this. You…you promised! Craig I…I can’t live without you! Please…Craig. C-craig…” Tweek’s grip tightened as Craigston’s loosened. “Craig!!!” He screamed, burying his face into his lover’s neck. The sky practically opened up outside. Rain poured down upon the battlefield, showering its fighters in an overwhelming feeling of loss. They were soaked, but could only focus on Tweek’s pain.

“I won’t…” He whispered in between sobbing breaths, “I won’t let you die!”

All his magic, everything he felt and everything he was, Tweek released into Craigston. He closed his eyes, gripping down on the prince’s limp body. A painful whimper escaped his paling lips.

“Tweek!” Stanley realized, “Don’t! You’ll---“

“Stan.” Em called, looking around the room.

Stone within the walls split, suddenly. Some shook and even fell from their confinement. Tweek’s vision began to fail him, but he could hear the thuds. Could feel the room rattle violently. Craigston’s eyelids fluttered as he took his first breath back to life. He breathed in deeply, opening his eyes slowly. Craigston was disorientated to say the least. He discovered rather quickly that he could not move as he attempted to reach for Tweek’s face.

“Twe…?”

Tweek’s eyes shot opened, tears falling. He smiled, weakly.

“What are you do…n-no.” Craigston realized.

“Shh…” Tweek whispered, leaning down to rest his forehead upon Craigston’s. “I have already given you my heart. I-I…would gladly give you my life.”

“Tweek.” Craigston tried to protest, tried in vain to sit up and stop the dragonborn by force.

Tweek only smiled.

The walls continued to break apart. As they fell, the outside world warped. A blur of light and color took place upon the horizon. Stepping out of the void, were beautifully tall people. Upon closer inspection, Stanley and Em noticed their pointed ears.

The group surrounded Craigston and Tweek. They started to chant and Tweek slipped to the floor beside the prince, panting. As their words filled the air, Craigston’s muscles ached back to life. He grunted, ignoring the flaring pain to turn and grab the fallen blond. Tweek winced, closing his eyes for a moment. At least, it felt like a moment. Craigston sat up with growing energy. He held Tweek in his arms, begging him to open his eyes.

Tweek could only smile, “Y-you’re so loud.”

“Tweek.” Craigston held his breath, hugging the boy close. “If you ever scare me like that again…!” He managed to say, exhaling.

Tweek let out a small laugh. It was weak and pained, but filled with joy. “Y-you…you’re one to talk!”

Craigston pulled away slightly to look at him, “I suppose we got carried away.” He tried to joke, though his tone remained flat. Looking deep into Tweek’s eyes, Craigston wiped the tears from them to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.

 

Light feet graced the frozen battlefield. Wendelyn looked on in astonishment. She reached for Kylen’s hand absentmindedly, finding it already waiting. The casters, along with the knights, fell into a hush. No one dared speak, not one moved. The elves that came before them all smiled warmly.

 _“Are you humans not still the same?”_ One spoke.

 _“The fighting ends now.”_ Another said, _“We have returned, with great thanks to the dragonborn. With us, nature and magic will reclaim this world.”_

The casters looked amongst each other before turning their attention to their leader. Wendelyn bowed and, with her stance, her comrades followed suit. The knights of South Kingdom dropped their weapons, befuddled by their sheer numbers. From the veil, faeries and other creatures emerged.

_“The realms are connected once more.”_

Many of the elves glided on the soles of their bare feet. They took to the wounded and healed them with ancient magic. The druids among the casters were awestruck. The bravest of them, aided in the healing process. To be among the first of druid kind had been more than an honor. Some of the druids openly sobbed.

 _“Are you the one they call Mother of Gaia?”_ An elf said, approaching Wendelyn.

Kylen squeezed down on Wendelyn’s hand. He knew not to be hostile, but felt the urge to stand in front of her all the same. He remained at her side, however, when she squeezed back lightly. Barbara and Rebecca, on the other hand, moved to stand beside them. Both crossed their arms over their chests, cautiously eyeing the elf. Clydesdale made his way over with Tolkien and Nicoleta landing behind, still riding Stripe.

The elf laughed. A sound that could possibly cause flowers to blossom and the coldest of hearts to melt.

Craigston flinched. Tweek rarely saw the once prince thrown off guard. His eyes traveled and he found the source. The king was dead, lying in his own spilled blood. The two parted to check on the man, but life had long left his body. Tears didn’t fill Craigston’s eyes, but Tweek could see the sorrow within them.

“I-I…I’m sorry, Craig.”

Craigston cleared his throat, turning to look at the elves around them.

The elves bowed their heads, _“Apologies. Your father had long passed when we arrived.”_ One spoke as the once prince draped his cape over his father’s body.  

“W-who are…” Tweek’s eyes widened, “Pirrup?” He gasped.

Pirrup smiled fondly, _“Greetings, dear Tweek. It gladdens me to see you again.”_

Craigston raised his eyebrow at the two, watching the new blond boy closely. Piruup was short among his elven brethren, yet still taller than any human. The elf practically radiated with kind energy and well wishes.

Craigston already disliked him.

“How are you? H-here.”

Pirrup’s eyes smiled as he spoke, _“Why. You shattered the veil. We felt your agony from the other realm and decided it was time to return.”_

Em stretched, “The war is over. We won.”

Stanley had still been taking in the fact that elves existed and were standing right in front of them. He gathered himself after a moment, but couldn’t help thinking about his two loved ones. Knowing Kylen and Wendelyn, they were beside themselves with curiosity and acceptance.

 _“No. It is only the beginning.”_ An elf chimed in

 _“Indeed,”_ Added another, _“Mankind will fight for their supposed blood right._ ”

Pirrup’s smile faltered briefly, _“For now. Take solace in what you have achieved.”_ He said, looking to Craigston and Tweek above all else.

Stanley glanced back and at Cartesian before shooting Sir Em a look. The reaper nodded as he bent down to the unconscious mercenary. Touching his back, Em pulled Cartesian into his shadow and the two vanished. The once knight cleared his throat, walking over to Craigston and Tweek.

“We can bury your father with the queen and princess.” He stated, with a hint of sympathy.

Craigston stood with Tweek, glancing back to his father for a moment. He then nodded his head, resting his head on Tweek’s shoulder when he turned back around. Tweek placed a comforting hand upon Craigston’s back in response.

“We should get back to the others.” Stanley said.

“In a moment. I need to speak with Tweek. Alone.”

Pirrup bowed his head. He said something in an ancient tongue and the other elves in the room followed Stanley out. Tweek watched them leave. Slowly, he turned to look at Craigston. Craigston took his hand and lead him out of the room and toward his chambers. His silence had been as unreadable as his face. Tweek chewed at his lip, thinking of what might have been wrong. Craigston did just lose his father and they both nearly died.

“Tweek.”

Tweek bit too hard. He winced, peeking one eye open and finding Craigston close by. Craigston lifted his chin up and licked the blood away before kissing him. Tweek hardly protested, kissing him back almost instantly.

“Marry me.” Craigston whispered as their lips parted.

Tweek flinched, “W-what.”

“Will you marry me?” He asked again.

“M-marry you? I…well,” Tweek’s eyes looked every which way, “Is that even possible!? I mean…we’re both male! A-and…I mean,” The air grew hot as Tweek’s face heated up, “I will.”

Craigston grabbed both his hands, “You will?”

“O-of course I will!” Tweek shouted, burying his face in Craigston’s chest.

Craigston wasn’t sure why he had been so surprised. A smile crept onto his face as he hugged Tweek close to his body. He then spun the blond around before kissing him again.

 

Wendelyn stood tall upon some ruins. She flashed Stanley and Kylen a private smile before beginning her speech. The elves watched along with the casters and remaining knights of the fallen kingdom.

“My brothers and sisters, both magical and nonmagical alike. Today marks an important moment in history. On this day, we have not only returned magic to the land. But we have also united two realms! The future is not only bright, it is ours.”

There was a cheer before she continued, ”No longer will Gaia be ruled by one man, by a family of men. Kings of what? Of our rights. Of our lands. The age of monarchy has ended. We go into this new age stronger. Never forget what we accomplished here. What each and every one of you did this day. For this day will live on forever. And you will find your place in its eternality!”

As cheering erupted, the ground shook. Wendelyn glanced toward the castle, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Those boys.” She muttered, laughing a bit to herself.

Kylen watched as the battlefield slowly turned into an oversize camp ground. Wendelyn busied herself, speaking with elven leaders. Craigston returned with Tweek, both noticeably dishevelled. Stripe was quick to greet both, his size surprising the raven haired boy.

“I can change him back.” Nicoleta pointed out.

“Don’t. I love him.” Craigston said, petting Stripe’s large nose.

Tweek giggled, watching the two with unconditional admiration.

“Hey!” Clydesdale shouted, punching Craigston’s arm. “I see you didn’t die.” He teased and Tweek winced.

“Too soon.” He huffed.

“You either.” Craigston replied to his friend before tugging Tweek closer.

Tolkien shook his head, but smiled warmly at his friends.

“It seems everything worked out.” Stanley said, walking over to Kylen.

Kylen averted his eyes from the group to turn to Stanley. He smiled briefly, leaning his head against a broad shoulder.

“What’s troubling you?” He asked when Kylen remained silent.

“Do you think we could have prevented more?”

Stanley frowned, wrapping an arm around the scholar. “Cartesian?” He questioned, though he was certain.

“Mmhm.” Kylen barely replied, eyelids lowering some.

“Think nothing of it. We are not to blame for his actions, Kyle.”

Kylen let out a deep sigh, “I suppose you’re right.”

After Em locked Cartesian with Heida, he returned to his sister. James had joined the other casters in their celebrations. Leopold awoke to a worried Kayin, who smiled upon seeing his rejuvenated state.

Em appeared by them and bent down, “The war is over.” He informed and Kayin smiled brightly.

“There are elves!”

“Elves?” Leopold laughed, “A-aw my. That’s exciting. Are they staying for supper?” He asked, meekly.

“I believe they plan to stay longer than that.” Em replied, plopping down beside him.

Kayin stood up, spinning around to watch them both with her arms behind her back.

Em chuckled under his breath, “Well then. I do believe I owe you a picnic.”

Leopold blushed, “Golly Em. You don’t have to--_”

“I want to.” He cut in, flicking a piece of Leopold’s hair.

Leopold looked down, blushing harder. “Will you join us, Kayin?”

Kayin turned on her heel, “I don’t believe I can. Maybe next time!” She called out, walking away.

“We um…didn’t even decide when?” Leopold noted, confused.

Em chuckled lightly, looking up at the sky.

Later that night, Kylen slipped away from two dark haired beauties. The king had been buried earlier. The elves were quite respectful and even showcased some of their customs when mourning the dead. They broke bread after and danced the night away. Both life and death were celebrated together. It had been lovely, but Kylen’s mind had been elsewhere.

Cartesian and Heida were chained to a wall. Separated, but within the same barred room. Kylen could hear Cartesian’s whining paces before he spotted the two. Heida may have been sympathetic at first, but Kylen did not see that side of her. Her voice was hoarse from yelling at the mercenary to silence himself or she would do it for him.

“Ericson.” Kylen called, snapping both from their arguing.

“Please,” Heida started to say, struggling to break free. “Let me go. I meant nothing by it! He hired me. Tricked me. Please! I’ll kill him if you like, prove my loyalty.”

“Ey!”

Kylen frowned, he almost believed her.

Heida watched his face closely and hers twisted, “Let me out you useless heretic!”

Cartesian laughed, but quickly stopped as Kylen’s eyes fell upon him. “Kaul.” He whined, “I’m going to starve to death.”

“Perhaps.” He replied, ignoring Heida’s cursing.

“Kyle, please! You’re being unreasonable.”

Kylen glared, “I’m being unreasonable? Do you know how close we were from all dying? Because of YOU. You attacked Kenneth and not to mention KILLED THE KING. Craigston, as well! Had Tweek not been there…”

Cartesian raised an eyebrow, “I will be here if your point ever arrives.”

Kylen laughed, it was angry and bitter.

“Why?” He had to ask.

Cartesian squinted his eyes, “Excuse me?”

“Why did you do it?” Kylen snapped, slamming his hands against the bars.

Heida snorted.

“Why not?” Cartesian replied, his voice like a snake’s.

Kylen released the bars, “What?”

“Do I truly need a reason?” He went on to say, “I just wanted to see what would happen.”

“Are you?...You can’t be serious!”

“As serious as the plague, my good man.”

Kylen grabbed his forehead, “You’re unbelievable.”

Cartesian smiled, “Thank you.”

“There was never any hope for you…was there?” He was asked, but before Cartesian could answer, Kylen left the dungeon.

“Kyle wait! Where are you going!? Get back here you filthy heretic! This isn’t over! Do you hear me KIEL!? THIS ISN’T OVER.”

 

\-----------------------------------Epilogue-----------------------------------

 

Many years had passed since the battle of South Kingdom. With the realms connected, the human world was flooded with mythical creatures and persons. The elves helped to keep balance as the casters eased human tension. There had been a few monarchs that refused to dismantle. These kingdoms were met with a mighty force. Craigston and Tweek were no longer a part of the fight. After they wed, they decided to travel the world. Tweek enjoyed aiding those they came across, but they otherwise kept a low profile.

Wendelyn received word from Tweek. Most people used hawks, but Tweek used a lovely green bird that puffed up when tested. The witch couldn’t think of a bird more suited for the dragonborn. Bouncing her infant daughter, Wendelyn walked through the halls of the castle. The castle she once called home had turned out to be of elven origin. The elves were kind, however, and gifted the structure to the casters. There were leaders, but no kings or queens. Meetings were held and the people were always heard.

“Mom!” Wendelyn heard, walking into the dining hall.

Her firstborn grew not only in strength, but in brains. Only five years of age and he could put many casters to shame. Myrddin sat in between his two fathers, pouting slightly. His curly orange hair fell down where Kylen’s sat high. Bright purple eyes watched the woman closely and she smiled.

“Have you not eaten?” She asked softly, noticing her baby girl falling asleep.

“No. We were waiting for you.” Stanley ruffled up Myrddin’s hair, much to the boy’s discontent.

Upon Kylen’s lap, a dark haired boy laughed at his brother’s misfortune. Isaac looked much like Stanley, with his dark hair and blue eyes. The boy was, however, adopted. His parents a victim of the war and found by Kylen.

“Quiet fool. Rissa’s sleeping.” Myrddin huffed, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest.

“Be nice to your brother.” Stanley scolded.

“Yeah. Be nice ta me, Mimi.” Isaac taunted.

Kylen bounced Isaac in his lap, “Don’t tease your brother, Ike.”

Myrddin stuck his tongue out and Isaac frowned.

“Tweek is coming today.” Wendelyn said, smiling warmly when Myrddin left his seat for her to take.

Myrddin smiled back. “I’ll get the food, mother.” He informed, sweetly.

Stanley smirked briefly, “That so? How long has it been now?”

“Since the wedding.” Kylen pointed out, “Do you think the spell we gave him worked?” The scholar asked, curiously.

Wendelyn rocked their daughter, “I believe so.”

“Spell?” Stanley questioned, “What spell?”

Wendelyn exchanged a look with Kylen and the two snickered to themselves. Outside, there was some commotion. Myrddin returned with a few of the sisters. They all set the food and drink down, but were clearly distracted.

“There seems to be a giant rat outside. I believe it’s for you, Wendy.” Rebecca teased.

Heida smiled, “Would you like us to fetch them for you?”

Myrddin looked between everyone, “Mother. I want to meet uncle Tweek.”

“Then let us greet them.” She said, standing.

Food was left to sit as the group left the castle. Stripe remained as large as ever, if not somewhat bigger. Craigston hopped down, putting his arms out for Tweek. A girl dropped into them instead. Tweek landed, using Craigston’s shoulder for support as he stood back up straight.

“Tweek!” Wendelyn called out, waking her baby.

“Mom.” Myrddin grumbled.

Wendelyn laughed gently, “Oh honey. Mommy is sorry.”

“Who is that?” Stanley wondered, watching as Craigston picked up the child.

Tweek came over to them first, exchanging cheek kisses with Wendelyn. Craigston trailed behind as the girl in his arms pointed at everyone and everything.

“I don’t like this and I don’t like that. Who’s that? I don’t like them.” She told him and Craigston only nodded his head.

“Is this Amarissa?” Tweek gawked, staring into the girl's mesmerizing eyes. One had been blue and the other purple. He reached down to touch her hand, but Amarissa grabbed it with tiny fingers, causing Tweek to swoon.

Wendelyn smiled fondly as she watched the two. “And is that?” She asked, looking over to Craigston.

Kylen picked up Isaac, who watched the girl in Craigston’s arms closely. Myrddin frowned, tugging on his father’s pants.

“Yes, Myrddin?”

“She’s made from magic.” He said, rather bluntly.

Tweek laughed nervously, “I-I suppose you could say that.”

“Magic?” Stanley looked between the two and Craigston shrugged.

“Tweek used a spell to change his gender. He gave birth to Ruby.”

Ruby showed the group her middle finger.

“Isn’t she a doll?” Stanley joked.

“Ruby! Craig, I told you not to teach her that!” Tweek snapped.

Craigston raised an eyebrow, “She learned it from you.”

Ruby giggled, “I learnt it from mommy!”

Tweek blushed somewhat meekly, “Yeah but…I learned it from you so! It’s still your fault.”

“Of course it is, darling.”

Kylen pat Tweek’s back, “I would love to hear about the spell’s effects when you have the time.”

“We were just about to eat. Are you hungry? Please, join us.” Wendelyn added.

Stanley nodded, “Kids. Welcome your cousins.”

Myrddin frowned, “Welcome.” He grumbled.

Isaac smiled at Ruby, “Welcome!”

Ruby squinted her eyes at the two before flipping each the bird. Tweek was quick to scold her and then Craigston when he laughed. The trio then followed everyone inside the castle. Craigston handed Ruby off to Tweek and put his arm around the blond’s shoulders afterward. Ruby wrapped her small arms around her father’s neck, nuzzling into him. Tweek smiled, melting into the moment.

“Tweek, Craigston. This is Myrddin, Isaac, and Amarissa.” Wendelyn introduced when they all were seated, “Children, this is uncle Tweek.”

“The dragonborn.” Myrddin whispered, staring at him.

“And uncle Craigston. As well as, their daughter Ruby.”

Ruby nibbled on Craigston’s arm around Tweek, “Daddy. Hungry.”

“Yes, little one. Tweek, honey. She’s teething again…”

“C-craig! Your arm.” Tweek gasped, looking at the blood. “Ruby, sweetie…please stop chewing on your father. His skin isn’t as tough as ours.” He explained, healing Craigston with a quick wave of magic.

Ruby sniffed, “S-sorry, daddy.”

“It’s alright.” He assured the both of them, petting each of their heads.

Wendelyn handed Ruby a stale piece of bread to chew on, “Only half dragon is she? Could have fooled me.” The witch teased, patting the girl’s head.

Ruby growled lowly.

“Ruby.” Tweek warned, “Be nice.”

Ruby grumbled as she chewed through the bread with ease. Rebecca laughed, walking over to pet the tiny dragon. She then played in the girl’s strawberry blonde hair before braiding it. Ruby froze, awestruck.

“Feisty little thing.” Rebecca mused.

Craigston only nodded. He then glanced over to Heida, who was guarding the door. “I see you allowed the mercenary to redeem herself. I hope the same can’t be said for the fat one.”

Tweek frowned, “I…never liked him.”

“Cartesian.” Stanley said, causing both Kylen and Heida to glance up. “No. We kept him imprisoned. Though…”

“He escaped last summer.” Kylen informed, his voice dejected.

Craigston leaned back in his chair, “Do you need us to intervene? Where is Sir Em on the matter?”

“Craig.” Tweek said softly, placing a hand on his husband’s arm.

“Em has been quite busy with Leopold and their son.” Wendelyn said.

“Son?” Both Craigston and Tweek seemed surprised.

“They adopted an elf.” Kylen chuckled, “He’s Ike’s best friend.”

“Best friend!” Isaac cheered, cutting up his own food into smaller bites. The boy had only been three, but he was quite advanced for his age.

“That reminds me…we should visit Clyde and Toke.” Cragiston told Tweek who brightened at the thought.

“Yes! We must see their children. Ruby should meet them, of course.” Tweek beamed, leaning against Craigston who smiled.

“You no longer stutter.” Kylen noticed.

Wendelyn nodded, “He does have a much better hold on his magic.” She pointed out. “It was electric based, after all. Holding in such power…I’m glad you didn’t explode.”

Tweek laughed somewhat nervously at the thought.

“As if I would allow that to happen.” Craigston grunted.

The group continued their meal with memories and laughter. After they finished, the children were taken outside to play amongst themselves. The adults continued to talk. Ruby didn’t like being thrown in with the two boys. Isaac had been nice, though. He welcomed Ruby to play with him and his building blocks. Myrddin only watched them, scowling.

“He has a mean face.” Ruby pointed out.

Isaac nodded, “I think it’s cawse you’re a drawgon.”

Ruby’s face crinkled, “That’s not fair.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow when Ruby left his brother to storm over. She pushed him and he hit the ground hard. Myrddin’s eyes lit up brightly, but he held back. Exhaling, he stood back up and brushed himself off.

“What’s your problem?” He snapped at Ruby, whose eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t be mean to me just cause I’m a dragon!” She huffed, frustrated with herself for almost crying. Smoke poured out of Ruby’s nostrils the angrier she became.

Myrddin blinked a few times, clearly confused.

“Mommy and daddy say I’m not bad. I’m special!”

Myrddin rubbed the back of his head, “I don’t think you’re bad. I actually…like you a lot.” He confessed, blushing some.

“Y-you…you do?” Ruby hiccupped.

“Yeah. Sorry…guess I’m just jealous you have more magic than me.” He murmured, glancing away.

Ruby wiped her eyes, “Well…” She looked around before looking back at him, “We can practice together. Do you want to be my rival?”

“Rival?” Myrddin questioned, looking her over. Ruby smiled and he smiled back, “Sure.”

“Good!” Ruby huffed, showing him her middle finger. “Next time don’t let a girl push you over.” She teased.

Myrddin smirked, showing her his own middle finger.

Tweek nearly rushed over to his daughter’s aid, but Craigston held him back.

“Let her fight her own battles. See?”

“Did your daughter just knock our son down?” Wendelyn said, eyes narrowing slightly.

“He handled himself well.” Stanley pointed out.

Kylen nodded, “His magic control continues to impress.”

Tweek breathed out a cold breath of air, relaxing back into Craigston. It was hard to believe sometimes, that his life could have been different. He could never imagine his life without Craigston. Craigston glanced toward him, sensing his reverie. Their eyes spoke briefly before sharing a knowing smile. Tweek thought about the day they wed, closing his eyes.

 

_“Sia tobor jahus ehis ghoros wux._

_Wux claxon wer ibafarshan irsa ve._

_Svaklar lyriki osvitha, wux naktada goawy._

_Svaklar lyriki l'grada, wux jilga._

_Wux tira ti larinn ve._

_Dout kornari banprivi nifa sia kurjh._

_Huena nifa, si xkhata tiamo._

_Si majak ekess wux sia froneel._

_Sia kornari ui douta ekess jilg._

_Sia sepa ui douta ekess ashne._

_Vur sia mamiss ui douta ekess vulsh._

_Si tiliw waph vi owier waphic._

_Loreat vi owier marfedelom._

_Sjerit ehis cuthezthic ekess drekim mrith wux._

_Si mi douta malrak._

_Persvek nomeno tobor vur wer fervor.”_

_“My life was nothing before you._

_You took the flame within me._

_Where others fled, you kept place._

_Where others feared, you held._

_You did not tame me._

_Your heart simply opened my own._

_Once opened, I became whole._

_I give to you my everything._

_My heart is yours to hold._

_My soul is yours to share._

_And my body is yours to drink._

_I could live a thousand lives._

_Die a thousand deaths._

_Yet, nothing compares to being with you._

_I am yours forever._

_In this life and the next.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The End](https://shinyvapor26.tumblr.com/post/170636724119/the-end-kitty)
> 
>  
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------  
> The story continues in 'South Kingdom: Tales'!


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